


Skele-Bunny

by MsMK



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: All the skellies, Alternate Universe - Mob, F/M, Fluff, Gang Violence, Interrogation, Mob!Sans, Mobster Sans - Freeform, Multiverse, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader is trouble, Sexy Fluff, Smut, Smut chapters a little later, UT!Mob, thugs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2018-10-30 05:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10869612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMK/pseuds/MsMK
Summary: 5 years since the ascension, 3 years since the universes collapsed.Sans finds himself head of a mob family of skeletons in a topsy-turvy city, mostly as a result of economy booms and monster wares being banned. He doesn't really mind, the life of a mob boss seems to suit him.However, Sans' mob isn't the only one in the city, and when he brings you home on impulse one night, he gets more than he bargained for when he finds out how you're...connected.





	1. Don Sans

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to Optima_Chama for giving me this wonderful idea! I've been OBSESSING OVER IT ever since, so here you guys go, my first chapter! Let me know what you think!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning.  
> A smoky room.  
> A girl in silver.  
> A feeling.  
> A touch.

5 years since the ascension.

Monsters broke into the world, upsetting an already broken system, fighting for their rights as citizens. It didn’t take long for Asgore’s charm to win out, and monsters became citizens, even able to have interspecies marriages. However, racism rampaged freely, as it probably will for many years to come, until there’s a generation that doesn’t remember the Ascension. Most monster wares and foods are illegal, including monster booze, a ban that upset even humans to an extent.

Then, when everything finally seemed to calm down, about 3 years ago, the universes collapsed, throwing all the monsters in the megaverse into one big world.

Sans’ world.

It had been a shock to say the least, meeting so many different versions of himself and his brother. He’d theorized their existence, of course, but this...this was something else. There was never enough evidence to work out exactly what had happened, but so far it seemed...permanent.

The sudden boom in the economy, as well as the struggle for power amongst humans and monsters alike, had pushed the world into a revival of the roaring 20s, where already quietly powerful mob families rose up once again, and ruled from the comfort of modern utilities. In reaction, monsters had been forced to create their own mafia, one that Sans unwittingly became the spearhead of.

“Don Sans”, they called him. Or “Blue Eye”. It still makes him laugh that anyone believes he’s fit to run anything. The surface world was a harsh place, but with his gaggle of skeleton “family members” the other families had quickly learned to fear the faces of the Skull Mob.

That’s how he found himself easing into the lifestyle, enjoying the daily routine of standing up for his people. The worst part ended up being the tedious pleasantries that needed to be exchanged between all the families. He could hardly keep them straight, though he knew the names: The Marino family cornered the arms deal and the docks, peddling any gun you might need while boasting a surprising amount of brutish thugs and a very amicable Don. Gisettis traded mostly in extortion, preventing “accidents” by demanding protection fees, and their Don was a seedy little man with little regard for anything that didn’t make him cold, hard, cash. And the Machiavellis ruled over them all, hands in every pot, thugs of all kinds. The recent turf wars between them and the Gisettis had turned pretty brutal, especially since Don Machiavelli was not at all a merciful man.

And then there was the Skull Mob, Sans’ own bone and magic. Since they generally dealt in monster wares and businesses, they had managed to stay under the radar in terms of turf wars, save for the occasional scuff. Sans was extra careful, though, because he didn’t want to bring any unwanted attention to his misdeeds. He had his brother’s political career to worry about, after all.

Life outside the mob continued fairly normally for others, bringing a strange sense of disconnect between those who were in and those who were out. While occasionally someone unrelated to any of the main families would wander in unawares, it was very rare.

So he probably should have seen it coming the night he met you.

* * *

Sans removed his cigarette long enough to down a shot of whiskey. Sure there was no ban on human alcohol, but speakeasy atmosphere couldn’t be beat, so they stuck around. Through the haze, the dulcet tones of a talented singer wafted, and he hummed along a little as Grillby refilled his drink.

“thanks, grillbz.” He shot him a wry smile as the fireman walked away to serve other customers. The good news was that whatever attack had been threatened on this establishment, _his_ establishment, had not happened, so either it was a false alarm or they’d seen Sans and turn-tailed it outta there. Smart choice, if so. He didn’t take kindly to anyone threatening anything of his, and _especially_ not his favorite bar--er, speakeasy. Either way, he’d had a surprisingly trouble free night.

Well, that was until he caught a glimpse of shimmery silver sitting next to him.

Fuck, if you weren’t the definition of “trouble”. Ruby red lips upoturned in a coy smile as you accepted some straight bourbon from the flaming bartender, curves for days, and a shiny silver dress with gold tassels that hugged your body close. Oh, man. He quickly searched for any marks or crests, delighted to find you had none that he could see. Good, that meant you weren’t some mob boss’ bunny...yet.

Now, Sans had never been a very serious person, and being a mob boss had...affected him. There was a time when he would have joked the night away, awkwardly dismissing himself at the end of the night because he was afraid to regret something in the morning. Now...now he craved the idea of a sweet young thing like you in his bed, undone and needy as your hair spilled out across his pillows. And that heavenly smell radiating from your skin wasn’t helping, either.

You held yourself with an air of confidence, and your eyes crinkled when you laughed at one of Grillby’s jokes. So you had a sense of humour, always a necessity for him. He couldn’t help himself, he had to try.

His grin widened as he leaned over the counter. “hey, there, dollface, what brings such a beautiful thing like you to my establishment on such a fine evening?”

You turned your coy smile on him, and man, it felt like somebody hit him straight in the soul with your gorgeous eyes. His soul thrummed happily.

“Just looking for trouble, I guess?” You said sweetly, sipping off your bourbon. You reached out and dragged your finger across his mandible gently. He resisted the urge to purr at the contact. “But I can’t seem to find it. Everything’s so quiet. How ‘bout you, sugar skull? Are you lookin’ for some trouble tonight?”

Oh, stars, sign him up! No, no, be cool. He stood slowly, his six feet towering over you as you remained in your stool with a smirk.

“maybe i am.”

* * *

You weren’t usually so forward with strangers, but something about this guy was familiar. You watched him for a while from the corner, the movement of his form in the smoky room pleasing to your eyes. It was a good twenty minutes before you realized that he was the boss of the Skull Mob.

“Blue Eye” Sans. Ah, that's why he looked familiar. He looked...softer in person. From the stories you expected him to be 8 feet tall, with sharp pointed teeth and jutting cheekbones. Or maybe you were thinking of a different skeleton? There were an awful lot of them around lately.

In any case, something about him made you want to investigate, and it wasn’t just that the information obtained would be useful. You approached the bar slowly, glancing over him to see the exposed bones of his neck, and the ones of his arms visible as he had pushed his sleeves up. Large, hardy bones, fused together in places humans would normally have holes. You engaged him in conversation easier than expected, his aim clearly to get you to come home with him.

“maybe i am.” He said smoothly, rising from his seat. He towered over you, and for a moment you caught a glimpse of the terrifying mob boss from the stories. But it was gone in a flash, and his genuine grin eased your mind.

“What kind of trouble are you looking to get into?” You asked innocently, crossing your legs so the slit of your dress rode up a little. His eyelights flickered to your legs only momentarily, before meeting your eyes once again.

“preferably trouble dressed in silver. so either i go get a burrito, or i take you home. s’your call, gorgeous.” He held out a bony hand expectantly. His boldness was refreshing, especially since usually nobody would dare look your way in a romantic sense. Your heart was pounding like never before, and an excited grin wound up on your face. Was it the bourbon or just him?

Normally you didn’t do this, but…

Your hand slipped easily into his, his soft eyelights dancing in the low light of the speakeasy as he pulled you out the door.

You came with him with very little hesitation, and if it weren’t for the whiskey and the intoxicating smell he was getting from you, he might have been suspicious.

But he didn’t have time for suspicion. His bones were aching for your touch, his soul whining. He’d heard of attachments like this before, “love at first sight” or that sort of thing. He wasn’t so sure about love, but he was certain what was happening right now felt right, even though the whiskey was clouding his judgement.

He had you home in a blink, and you hardly registered the jump, throwing yourself in his arms eagerly. He caught you with a chuckle, swooping you effortlessly into a bridal carry as you peppered his face with sloppy kisses. It just felt _right_ , holding you like this, the sensation of your lips on his cheekbones.

But what if...what if it wasn’t? What if you didn’t feel the same? You’d leave in the morning and he’d be nursing a broken heart with whiskey. Again.

He turned off his logic and made a beeline for the bedroom.

If he only had tonight, he wanted to get started.

* * *

You opened your eyes blearily, to the sound of birds chirping outside the window. Huh. No usual city sounds. You took in the blue sheets (not yours) and the messy room (also not yours), as well as the skeletal arm draped around your naked waist (decidedly _not yours_ ). You suddenly remembered everything, from the speakeasy to here, whispers in the night, the feeling of bone against your skin, intense pleasure and some scandalous moans that escaped your own throat. Your heart leaped at the fact that it wasn't a dream, that you'd really met a monster so bold and exciting, and he'd really wanted you.

You glanced over your shoulder into the eyelights of the skeleton behind you, who wore a fixed grin on his sleepy face.

“mornin’, sweetheart.” He purred. His hands were surprisingly hesitant, as if he was waiting for you to push him away. When you didn’t, and instead turned towards him, his eye sockets widened in surprise. It quickly melted into confidence as he ran a hand up your naked back.

“Good morning, strange man from the speakeasy,” you cooed. Oh, you knew exactly who he was. But he didn’t need to know that. “What was your name again?”

“fair point, sweetheart. name’s sans. i only got your first name outta you last night...before you started moanin’.” He pulled you in, nuzzling your neck and nipping lightly. A daring man (skeleman?) he was, indeed. “so how about it? got a last name or can i just call you ‘mine’?”

You hummed and giggled as he nibbled your ear a little. You purposefully avoided the question, instead snuggling into him and wrapping your arms around his huge shoulders. “I’m alright with bein’ yours, sugar skull.”

“oh? afraid to tell me your name? don’t break my heart now and tell me you’re a call girl.” Yeah, right, like Papa would _ever_ allow that. “or maybe you’re running from the mob, a little witness protection?”

“Ha, somethin’ like that.” You traced a finger down his cervical vertebrae, watching as he shivered slightly at his touch. He pulled his face from your clavicle to examine your eyes.

“if it’s the mob you’re runnin’ from, sweetheart, you’re in the wrong bed.” He grinned at you knowingly. “but, then, you already knew that, right? who i am?”

“You got me, Blue Eye. I know who you are.” You slipped from his grip, tossing your legs over the side of the bed (you noticed he’d left your stockings on), feeling his eyes on you. You were impressed he hadn’t shot you yet, most mob bosses were so skittish they’d pop you if you looked at them funny. “Not gonna shoot me? Some strange girl seduced you at the bar and revealed she knows exactly who you are, that’s not suspicious?”

You looked over your shoulder at him, and we're taken aback by his confident grin, and the blue glow from his ribcage as the sheet slipped to settle across his pelvis. Your face flushed as you remembered the magical appendage he’d summoned last night, the same color as the glow in his chest. You knew enough from what he said last night to know that this was his soul, blinking at you from behind his sternum, and you couldn’t help but wonder how he could afford to be so blazé about this. He was basically putting his biggest weakness on display for you.

“what’s to be suspicious about? if you were gonna kill me you certainly wouldn’t have waited this long. you’da done it when i was sleepin’...or when I was lost in ecstasy in your arms last night. and just for the record, i’m pretty sure i was the one who seduced you.” His eyelights seemed to sparkle, like he knew he was right. He _did_ have a point. Not about the seducing, that had been all you (and that amazing dress), but about not needing to be suspicious. If you were a hired gun, you wouldn’t have slept with him in the first place.

You pushed off from the bed, enjoying the sharp intake of breath as he observed your form in the morning light. Your dress was easy to find, shimmering silver amongst a sea of blue and black. You heard him shuffle as you slipped it over your frame.

“what, leavin’ already? i thought you were mine now.” You could hear the laughter in his voice and returned it with a small chuckle of your own.

“Got duties to tend to, unfortunately. Zip me up, Don Sans.”

The flirty smile you threw over your shoulder at him was so tempting. He hated seeing that silver fabric slip over you, covering your body. But he did like how you wore it. He obediently sat up to drag the zipper up your back, not missing the multitude of tiny scars that peppered your skin. Small enough that you wouldn’t see them if you weren’t looking, but obvious enough to be more than minor wounds.

He trailed his bony fingers across the exposed skin below your nape. He felt like he was dreaming, every tiny bit of magic in his body humming for you, and you’d said you didn’t mind being his!

“so will I catch ya in my speakeasy again tonight?” He asked, giddiness making him bold.

“You’ll catch me in your bed tonight if you like,” you said with a giggle. Oh, stars, this girl...he tried to control himself, removing his hands to curl up in the sheets. Don’t scare her away!

You turned around, and he marvelled once again at the fact that you didn’t think twice about his monster body. For such a soft, gorgeous human girl, you were pretty open-minded. You slipped a hand behind his neck, placing a teasing kiss between his sockets.

“you’re pretty open-minded for such a sweet young thing.” He relayed his thoughts to you without filter, and you laughed, releasing him to slip on your shoes.

“What can I say? I appreciate your boldness. Most men wouldn’t dare touch me, too busy runnin’ away when they hear my name.”

Her name? “wh...why’s that, bunny?”

“People get pretty scared when you throw around the name ‘Machiavelli’.”

 _Oh shit_. M...Maybe he’d heard you wrong?

“come again?”

“You heard me, sugar skull.” You were biting back laughter, and he was sure it was due to the wide-eyed look on his face. He forced a grin on his face, trying to look unbothered.

“like, uh, the bonebreaker machiavelli sons?”

“My two older brothers, though I know them as JJ and Frankie.”

The realization hit his numb mind all at once. The Machiavellis were the most powerful human mob family in the city, with fingers in every business and their hold extending to other cities as well. The Bonebreakers was the codename for Don John Machiavelli’s two eldest sons, a straight terror to any mobster who so much as breathed disrespect in their father’s general direction.

And if they were your older brothers, then that means…

“You okay there, bone boy?”

Holy stars. He just fucked the only daughter of the most notorious gangster in town.

_What the fuck was he thinking?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ The Infamous Silver Dress ](https://pinterest.com/pin/498140408778126545/?source_app=android)   
>  and   
> [ The shawl she wore with it](http://pinterest.com/pin/498140408778126551/?source_app=android)


	2. See You Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After you leave Sans' side, you have a chat with your family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the great comments I've gotten already!  
> I'm so excited for this story!

He tried not to panic, he really did. After all, it wasn’t like he couldn’t take what they could dish out. He was strong, and able. He could fight if he needed to, or even have Red and Edge do their damn jobs and bust up some thugs.

But Papyrus. If he got mixed up in a turf war right now, he could endanger Papyrus’ career as an up-and-coming politician advocating monsters’ rights. And a turf war he would have if Don John Machiavelli and his two sons found out he’d given their little princess a midnight ride. He’d heard stories of people who got whacked for less, like grabbing your ass or even catcalling you within earshot of them. He’d not let himself be whacked, but again, a turf war wasn’t exactly on his agenda.

He rubbed his skull, looking away from you as your amusement turned into a scowl. You crossed your arms, cocking a hip to the side.

“I figured you’d be different, sugar skull. Not easily spooked.” And he was disappointing you with his reservations. This just wasn’t fair at all! But dammit...he had to think of Paps first, like he should.

“you...you gotta leave, and fast, before someone sees you here.” He teleported to the other side of the room, pulling clothes on as he went, almost chuckling at your shocked face as he reappeared in front of you fully clothed. “and don’t tell anyone you were here, alright?”

Your surprise melted into an exasperated sigh. He froze in the motion of opening the door. Damn. He didn’t want you to think this was about you.  _ You _ were amazing, everything he could have wanted, and he’d gladly have you again. He had to think of his family, he knew that, but…

Fuck it.

You were shocked when his strong hands grasped your shoulders and his teeth pressed against your mouth. Hadn’t he been asking you to leave just a moment ago? Asked you not to tell, like you’re a dirty secret?

“it ain’t you,” he muttered against your mouth as you melted against his chest. He broke the kiss and tipped your chin up both one gentle finger, to look into his sockets. “you’re a femme fatale if i ever saw one, sweetheart, but your family isn’t exactly forgiving of guys who touch ya. i gotta worry about my own family, you know?”

Yup. Just like the others. You turned away from his grasp, sighing in frustration.

“but if you...manage to steal away some nights…into my speakeasy again...” You peeked back at him curiously, only to be caught up in another kiss as he backed you up against the wall next to the door. You opened your mouth to argue, but his tongue took the invitation to slip inside, and you forgot what you were going to say, lost in the feeling and remembering with fervent desire all the tricks he’d pulled last night in bed. All too soon, he pulled away, hands tracing down your body before grasping your hands. “i’ll be waiting.”

With that, he whirled you around and out the door, and after a strange jumping sensation, you found yourself in an alley outside of the speakeasy you’d met at last night. Weren’t you just in his bedroom?

You touched your lips gently, still tingling slightly from the taste of his tongue, presumably made of magic.

_ i’ll be waiting. _

You smiled. That’s the first time anyone’s ever stuck around to ask for a second date. 

You knew right then that you wouldn’t be satisfied with just meeting every now and then...you had to talk to Papa.

* * *

“Papa, don’t freak out,” you whined, mustering your best puppy dog eyes to counter your father’s obvious welling rage. “I’m not a little girl anymore, and it’s not his fault.”

“Not his FAULT?” He shouted, then what you assumed was an attempt to calm down crossed his face and he sighed, sitting down. He rested his face in his palm for a moment before returning his gaze to you. “Princess, my lovely, sweet angel, come over here.”

You obediently flounce over to him, a confident smirk on your lips. You’d already won, you could tell. He grasped your hands, an exasperated sigh escaping him.

“Did that monster hurt you? Did he harm you in any way?” You shook your head fervently. Quite the contrary, you thought. “And you’re sure he didn’t know who you were? Wasn’t just doing it to get at me?”

“Should have seen his face when he realized who I was, Papa. You’d have no doubt if you’d seen it.”

He sighed again, removing one of his huge hands to brush back his silver hair. He wore that sad, worried face he got when it came to you, instead of the hardened stone expression he showed everybody else.

“You’re sure you’re okay, princess? That he didn’t do nothin’ you didn’t want?” He asked again, as if confirming you didn’t want him whacked.

“I’m positive, Papa.”

“Alright, alright. I will forgive his transgression this one time.” He said, leaning in to kiss your forehead. You almost rolled your eyes. One time? He was  _ not _ getting the picture. You prepared yourself mentally for the oncoming anger.

“I don’t want just this one time, Papa.” You said with a pout. “I want to see him again.”

His shocked expression and momentary silence gave you a chance. You’d rehearsed all these reasons beforehand, with the ultimate goal being that you get to stay with your sugar skull, of course. You sat right on his desk, clasping his hands, with stars in your eyes.

“Besides my feelings, Papa, think of the good things! The Skull Mob is the biggest wild card in the game, with no affiliations and a large portion of the population under their control.” He looked at you with an unconvinced expression, but before he could say anything, you continued. “Think of how useful they would be in a power struggle as allies, think of the revenue gain for us  _ and _ them if we expanded into each other’s regions! They’d be idiots not to accept, and so would you!”

Your father squeezed your hands gently, as if signalling you to stop.

“Princess, I know you have a head for business and I respect that about you.” He placed a hand on your cheek lovingly, just like he used to when you were little. He used to be able to cover your whole face with that hand, but now he settled for cupping your cheek. “But it ain’t always business. This is about you signing on for the mob life, you realize that, right?”

“Papa, I’ve  _ been _ a part of the mob life. Can’t escape it just ‘cause I’m female. And it’s not like I’m getting married tomorrow or anything.”

You know that look. That’s the look he gives you when he’s remembering you when your were five and tiny, climbing up him like a jungle gym, or bursting into the office during tense deals to sweep across the room and show him the picture you drew. He always gave you that look when he disapproved of something.

“That’s different, you were just seeing the surface. If you’re gonna actually be involved with a mob boss...well, there’s a lot more involved, more than you’ve seen. I just want you to be happy, you’re my only daughter, you know?”

It’s cute how Papa still believed you knew nothing of the world he ran. Precisely the reason why you’ve never told him about all the times you’ve taken matters into your own hands before they even reached your brothers’ ears.

“It  _ will _ make me happy, Papa. After all, this life with you was all Mama ever wanted, right? That’s all I want with Sans, a chance.” You patted the hand that cupped your face, giving him your best smile. “And she was the happiest woman I ever met.”

There’s the clincher. The hard exterior your father had been wearing this whole time broke, and he beamed down at you with love in his eyes.

“I guess you’re right. You’re always right, just like your mother.” He leaned in and placed a kiss gently on your brow. “Never could say no to your mother, either.”

You giggled and kissed his nose. “Thank you, Papa! I know it’s hard to accept that your little girl is growing up, but I promise you’ll  _ love _ Sans!”

You slid off his desk and flounce out the door, excited and eager and…

You stopped just outside the door, frowning.

You still have to tell JJ and Frankie.

* * *

JJ was always more laid back than Frankie (possibly because he’s the older of the two) so you decided the best option was to go to him first and get him on your side before you attempted to approach your more hot-headed brother.

He was in the study, as usual. Texting, as usual. Some flame of his, you were certain. JJ had been a bit of a late bloomer, only being finally bitten by the lovebug at the tender age of 22. Now he was 27, with a string of broken hearts behind him and a phone that was always chiming. He spent a lot of time at the speakeasies in your territory, mostly doing the books but also to get the singers’ numbers. And the bartender’s. And you don’t even want to think about the dancing girls.

But despite his womanizing ways, JJ is a true romantic, and a sucker for a sappy story.

“Johnny, you won’t be _ lieve _ the tale I have for you today!” You said, flopping across his arms to block his phone and throwing a dramatic hand across your brow. You only ever called him Johnny when you were about to spit some juicy gossip, so he was instantly at attention, chuckling as he adjusted his arms to hold you more easily.

“Pray tell, dear sister,” he said, affecting his voice in such a way to sound southern. Then his voice dropped back into his brooklyn timbre. “What’s gotcha so excited this time?”

“Imagine it!” You shrieked, throwing an arm around his shoulders and flinging the other into the air. “A sweet little girl in a silver dress, a smoky speakeasy, and a dangerous Don drinking at the bar! ‘Doesn’t he look fine?’ she thinks to herself, ‘Well dressed, great taste in booze, and no bunny on his arm...yet.’ So what does she do?”

“Well, if she doesn’t go talk to ‘im, I ain’t listenin’.” JJ said, an amused look on his face.

“She does! She goes to him, examining his bones up close. She’s never seen a skeleton monster before, but here he was!”

“Wait, the Don of the Skull Mob has a human bunny now?” The surprise in his voice was thick, and his eyebrows almost disappeared into his thick hair. “That  _ is _ juicy.”

“Listen, you clod!” You flicked his ear and he chuckled. “She talks him up, and he takes her home, and they share an amazing night in the throes of passion!”

“Still juicy so far. Does she stay in the morning?” Amusement lit his blue eyes as he listened. Well, it was a great story, not to brag.

“She stays till the morning, but her mob affiliations leave him worried, so he thrusts her out!”

A scandalized gasp escapes your brother, making you giggle. “He did not!”

“He  _ did _ .” You confirm, a serious look on your face. “But not before he promised her that he really did want her, and that he’d try to be with her as much as he could!”

“That’s quite the tale. True?”

“The truest.”

He eyed you with mock suspicion. “Alright, didja get her name? Can we blackmail him with her? Who’s the new bunny?”

“Johnny, don’t freak out, okay?” You said, cupping his face in your hands. He stared at you in confusion.

“Why?...It’s not Angelina, is it?” You gave him a strange look. This weirdo. He fumbled with his phone suddenly. “That bitch! She agreed to dinner with me toni--”

“JJ, it’s not Angelina, it’s me! You’re lookin’ at her!”

He stopped mid-text over your shoulder, and you slipped off his lap slowly. His blue eyes bored into your face, looking for hint of a lie. Maybe you shouldn’t have gone to JJ first?

Suddenly there was a bark of laughter and he lifted you in his arms in a blink, spinning you around. He placed you gently back down and held fast to your shoulders, laughter gripping him hard.

“My sister! A mob bunny! That was a good story, sis, I almost believed you. But ya know Pops would never allow...that...Oh my God, you’ve already convinced him, haven’t you?” You nodded sheepishly. “Oh my... _ Y/N Sofia Marina Machiavelli _ , tell me you didn’t use the mom card?”

“Eh, guilty?” You said, batting your eyelashes at him and trying to look cute.

JJ groaned, leaning his head on your shoulder. He stayed that way for a minute, probably gauging his next step. Finally, he drew back, looking at you with a serious face.

“Listen. Keep your money separate from his, don’t ever let him convince you to combine it, ya hear? You can co-habitate if ya like, but we’re keepin’ your room here just the way it is if you need it. And don’t you _dare_ let him lay a hand on you outta line, alright?”

You blinked, confused momentarily. That sounded like advice from...somebody who approves.

“You approve?”

“Hell no! You’re my baby sis, nobody’s good enough for ya. But if you’re happy, I’m happy, and if he _makes_ you happy, then I’m for it.” He clapped your shoulder, a huge goofy smile growing on his face. You couldn’t help the huge smile you gave him in return. “So, uh, I’m assuming you haven’t told Frankie?”

Your grin faltered, turning into a shy, wobbly smile. You batted your eyelashes a little. “Well, I was just hopin’ you might help me out, there. You know how he gets, JJ.”

His laughter was like a little bell as he pulled you in for a hug, patting your back affectionately.

“Sure, sis, I’ll help ya.”

* * *

“So, Frankie, ya heard of Don Sans, right?” JJ asked casually, leaning his shoulder into Frankie’s punching bag as he practiced a staggeringly fast flurry of blows. Your other brother only huffed in response, his dark hair sticking to the sweat across his forehead. “S’at a yes?”

Frankie rolled his eyes, landing one punch near JJ’S head and stopping, and looked at him annoyed. “Yeah, I know the one. Why?”

“Well, I heard somethin’ pretty interestin’ about him today.”

Frankie leaned his weight on the other side of the bag, looking over at your eldest brother with interest. “Oh?”

Frankie was 25 as of last month, and built much stockier than lanky JJ was. His temper was legendary, giving him a slew of nicknames, but the one that always stuck was “Bonebreaker”, just like the elder brother. Frankie loved to fight, and his pride had gotten him (and subsequently JJ) into more than one avoidable scuffle. JJ viewed fighting as a necessity, and preferred to end things diplomatically. You were pretty good at getting Frankie to turn to mush in your hands, but JJ was the master, and for something this big…

You were glad you brought JJ to break it to him gently.

“Well, looks like our little sister here  _ bone _ d him silly last night, and now she’s convinced Pops to let ‘er be his moll.”

You gaped at your brother in disbelief. What the fuck was that?! There was no tact, no subtlety at all! Traitor!

“ _ Johnathan Marco! _ ” You hissed from the doorway

Frankie was blank-faced as he stared from JJ to you, then back to him. After what seemed like an eternity, a creepy smile cracked across his face and he released a manic giggle, adjusting the wraps on his fists.

“So, am I breakin’ his legs an’ arms, or did you want those and I’ll take his back?” He said with a sort of manic glee.

“ _ You will no nothing of the sort _ ,” You said, stalking across the room in three steps to slap both of your brothers on the arm. Frankie gave a gasp of mock shock, and JJ just smiled at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You glared at your eldest brother. “Johnathan, do you know what the word ‘subtle’ even means?”

“Sorry, princess. S’funnier this way.”

“Imma go break his legs.” Frankie said, but you caught his wrist and turned your glare on him. “Alright, alright, just his wrists...his toes?...Aw, c’mon, sis, I can’t just let him get away with it!”

“I happen to be a consenting adult, Frankie, and I  _ am _ capable of making my own decisions.”

“But--”

“Francis, let it go. She ain’t a little girl anymore.” JJ interjected smoothly, placing a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “And she’s smart, ya know? She’ll be fine.”

“Fucking...ugh!” Frankie wiped the sweat from his brow with a frustrated grunt, seeming to consider something. “Just...He’s  _ bones _ , sis, how does he even...nevermind, I don’t wanna know. I’m serious, never  _ ever  _ tell me how it works. Ever.”

You giggled a little at that, and he started to melt. He punched your shoulder gently.

“Keep all your money separate, never let him--”

“Gave her the spiel already, hot shot.” JJ said, chuckling. Frankie threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Fuckin--fine! But if he ever lays his hands on you, you tell your big brother Frankie so’s I can come beat his ass, ya hear?”

You laughed as he turned to tell off JJ for “taking all the good speeches”. It wasn’t as if you couldn’t hold your own in a fight, but it was nice to feel loved and protected.

Now all there was to do was wait for Papa to extend an invitation to Sans for a formal meeting. 

You hoped it would be soon….and subtle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JJ and Frankie ended up being way better than I imagined.  
> I love them to death.


	3. I'll Be Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your father summons Sans for a meeting.

Sans was a bit of a wreck. It’s been two weeks since he had his enchanted night with you, and he’s heard nothing. Don’t get him wrong, it wasn’t necessarily  _ bad _ news, but when something as scandalous as what he did happens,  _ nothing _ is an almost impossible standard. Not a peep on the streets, nobody even talking about the two of you at the speakeasy together.

It was all very...unsettling. The chances of nobody seeing you together that night were slim, and the chances of the Don and his sons not finding out were even slimmer.

Despite all this, he still spent every night in Grillby’s place, on the off chance you might come back for another round. He just couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about the actual act, only the possible repercussions. And the thought of having you in his arms again, despite the cold sweat and deep chill he got when he thought about your family...he couldn’t help but think of how good you looked in that dress, and how much better you looked out of it. He wanted to hold you again, to kiss you and make you make all those amazing noises that worked him up just to think about them…

He sighed and slammed back his whiskey, pushing the empty glass away. Grillby quickly refilled it but he ignored it. He tried to calm the heat in his bones, squeezing his sockets shut to try and banish the thought of you from his mind…

“...can I help you, gentlemen?” He didn’t really want to do this today, but two men had been standing behind him for a good portion of time. Human men, he could tell.

“Hear that, Frankie? He wants to know if he can help us.” The first one sounded amused, and from what Sans could glean, he didn’t seem to mean any harm.

“That’s mighty fine of him, ain’t it, JJ?” The second voice was decidedly less civil, almost muttering.

Wait. JJ and Frankie...where had he heard those names recently?

_ I know ‘em as JJ and Frankie. _

His eyes snapped open, magic welling in his hand for precautionary measures. He could blink away, but if he did they’d likely just turn their rage onto Grillby’s hard work, and he couldn’t justify that. He clenched his fist, stifling the magic. No, he had to be civil about this. Maybe play dumb.

He grinned his usual grin and turned to face them, resting his head on his hand and propping his elbow on the counter.

“yeah, i’m just a nice guy like that. but really, what can i do for you two?”

They looked like you. You all had the same bone structure, the same nose. You were definitely prettier, though. The one on the left was assumedly JJ, as he held a relaxed stance and a happy-go-lucky grin, whereas his brother was like a wall of grumpiness, huge muscled arms crossed in front of his chest.

“What, don’t recognize us? I hear we look a lot like our sister,” JJ said smoothly, bringing a hand up to push his dark hair out of his face. The action was clearly meant to put his family crest on his ring on full display. Sans didn’t miss it, obviously. The mark of the Machiavelli family. “an’ we heard from a reliable source that you got a reaaaaal good look at her a couple weeks ago.”

“and if i did?” They weren’t giving off and vibe of threat, at least not on purpose. They weren’t really here to intimidate him, it seemed.

Frankie looked like he might explode, and finally he released a deep sigh. “Okay, I’ll be honest. I wanna break your face right now.”

“Frankie.”

“Shush, Johnny. I wanna break each individual bone on your body until you’re no longer able to even turn your neck to  _ look _ at my sister.” For some reason, this also...didn’t feel like a threat. “But that’s not what we’re here for.”

Not what they’re here for? Then what  _ were _ they here for? As if in response to his thoughts, JJ produced a red envelope sealed with their crest. He gingerly took it from him, examining the curly handwriting on the front.

“Seems Pops wants to talk to ya.” JJ explained. “That’s a formal invitation to tea tomorrow at 3:00. You can bring whoever you think you need, but no weapons. Dress nice, and don’t be late.”

“And knowing our little sister, she probably slipped somethin’ in there when we weren’t lookin’. Thought we wouldn’t notice.” Frankie looked smug, and almost proud. “See ya tomorrow,  _ Don _ .”

Without waiting for a response, they turned and exited the bar, leaving him to stare dumbly in the direction they left in.

He turned his confused stare on Grillby, who simply shrugged and continued wiping glasses. He quickly tore open the envelope, and sure enough it was exactly what they said. Well, he needed to clear his schedule, then, because not showing up would be an even bigger act of war than fucking his daughter.

He noticed something else in the bottom of the envelope, and he was delighted to see that Frankie was right. A small folded note with his name in beautiful handwriting, presumably from you. When he unfolded the paper, something slid out. He caught it quickly and squinted to see it in the low light of the speakeasy. It was a little silver skull pin, and it made him chuckle. Cute. He turned his attention to the paper.

 

_ Sugar Skull, _

_ Don’t you even  _ _ think _ _ of skipping out on tea! I made us matching pins, so I’d better see you there so I can see you wear it. _

_ I’ll be waiting. _

_ XOXO _

_ Y/N _

 

“i’ll be waiting,” he repeats with a chuckle. Just like he’d said to you. 

What did this little princess have up her sleeve?

* * *

You stared into your closet blankly. Other than the dress you wore the other night, you had no clue what this guy liked. What color should you wear? Does he prefer long or short? Sexy or modest?

Well, you remember a good portion of the clothes in his room were black and blue, so you supposed those colors were safe.

You’d invited Frankie’s fiancé to help, but MaryJane was being useless, lounging across your bed asking questions while she flipped through magazines.

“So, a skeleton? Like, a real skeleton? With bones?”

“S’what I said, MJ.” You all but mumbled, tossing aside anything not blue. You could see her in your closet mirror, giving you an incredulous look.

“But, then, how did he...like, does he just have a dick there or something?” She scrunched up her face. “Just a dick and nothing else?”

“No, he doesn’t, he makes it with magic. Like, I guess he can only do it when he’s horny but this glowing thing just like,  _ happens _ .”

“That’s wicked weird.” She said, and you rolled your eyes.

“Can’t be any weirder than what Frankie has in  _ his _ pants.” You snorted.

“Hey, now, Frankie is normal and wonderful, thank you!  _ And _ he knows how to use it!” MaryJane laughed at your disgusted face. This is your brother you’re talking about! “So, if it’s made of magic, can he make it as big as he wants?”

Hmm… “You know, I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Well, how big was it?” Ah, the real question. You turned to face her, your hand on your hip as you looked at her accusingly.

“MJ, I have 30 minutes to pick an outfit and get all dolled up before he gets here, can’t this wait?”

“If you tell me now, I’ll make ya look smokin’ hot in 20.” She said, an evil glint in her eye. Well, she did have an eye for makeup and hair. She always looked a million dollars at events…

You held up your hands to show her how big you remember it. Her eyes grew wide and she dropped her magazine, and her squeals mixed with your laughter as her shouts of disbelief rang through the halls of the house.

* * *

Sans adjusted his tie again, staring up at the huge mahogany door in front of him. He was glad that he’d had Papyrus pick his outfit. He had to admit he looked smart in the pressed blue shirt and navy pinstripe vest. He thought he’d be more nervous, but...he fingered the skull pin on the lapel of his vest. You were waiting for him. What was there to fear?

“why did  _ i _ have to wear a monkey suit?” Came his alternate self’s voice from behind him, groaning. “i ain’t the one on trial here.”

“SHUT UP AND STAND UP STRAIGHT. THE DON HAS EXTENDED A COURTESY, AND IT’S OUR DUTY TO RESPOND.” Edge hissed, and a clanking sound indicated he had slapped Red upside his skull.

“no, our  _ duty _ is crackin’ heads open. this is ridiculous.” Red appeared in Sans’ peripheral, looking cross in his red suit. “her ass better be worth it,  _ don _ .”

“you shut your trap before they hear you, red,” Sans hissed, glaring over at him. Edge stepped up to his left, looking surprisingly wholesome in a basic black suit. He rang the doorbell, and Sans barely had time to prepare himself before to door flew open.

He’d expected a butler, or maybe one of the sons, but he hadn’t been prepared to see  _ you _ . He probably looked a bit like a deer in the headlights as he stared at you, looking better than he remembered in a modest yet tight blue dress with a black sash across your natural waist. The skull pin adorned the middle of the sash, where he assumed your belly button was. The idea that you’d been waiting just beyond the door for who knows how long, just to greet him...and the smile on your face...and your intoxicating scent...he couldn’t help the grin on his skull. Even though he was probably in big trouble, and on the edge of a turf war with the biggest mob family around...even though this was only his second time laying eyes on you...even though he should be worried about his family, and Papyrus’ career...he couldn’t stop the steady thumping in his soul.

“damn. the ass  _ was  _ worth i--oof!” Sans cut off Red’s lewd remark with a jab to the sternum, not taking his eyes off of you for a second. You opened your mouth to say something, but a tall man in a black suit stepped into view, taking you gently by the hand and leading you away.

“Miss Y/n, please, I told you it is my job to greet the guests. Your father would no doubt prefer that you waited by his side.” You looked back at Sans apologetically as the butler pushed you off into another room. He returned to the door in an instant. “I’m terribly sorry for the lack of ceremony, sirs. May I take your coats?”

Sans hadn’t worn one, but Red and Edge forked theirs over to the polite man, who hung them carefully on the coat rack. This gave Sans the opportunity to take in the splendor of your home for the first time.

It was huge, and modestly adorned. At first glance you might not think much of the decorations, but to him he could see a lot of money went into it, as everything was finely crafted of impeccable materials. He appreciated the lack of obnoxious tastes, as it was something he had in common with the Don. The butler introduced himself as Bigsby, and directed them to a room with French doors. When they slid open, it revealed a large study full of books, and a modest yet expensive tea arrangement surrounded by several chairs. The biggest chair was occupied by a huge, intimidating man with silver hair and a scar over his left eyebrow. He wore only two pieces of jewelry: a wedding band and the family crest ring. Don John Machiavelli himself. To his right sat JJ, dressed nicely in a sweater and slacks. To his left, Sans was delighted to lay eyelights on you again, smiling at him bashfully. You patted the empty seat beside you, but before he could even consider taking it, Frankie plopped down in it himself, throwing a protective arm around your shoulders. You hissed something at him that Sans couldn’t quite catch, but then returned to smiling.

He probably should be nervous, but the way you were looking at him filled him with the same confidence he’d carried the other night when he first saw you. He touched the skull pin on his lapel again, and watched as you touched the one on your waist with a wink.

He broke from his thoughts as your father rose from his seat, extending a hand to him. He accepted and gave him a firm shake.

“Don Sans, it’s nice to finally be meeting with you. And these must be Red and Edge. I’ve heard of you boys, too.” Impressive knowledge, but then again the man ran the whole city. “Please, sit and enjoy some tea and cookies. My princess here insisted on making them special, so don’t be shy.”

You made these? As he sat he examined the perfect little cookies on the plates, happily serving himself a few while Red shoved a handful into his mouth unceremoniously.

“You Imbecile, Where Are Your Manners!” Edge whisper-yelled at his brother, nudging him hard enough to push him over a little.

“i have to thank you for the generous invitation, don machiavelli. s’not often monsters get invited into a home nice as this one.”

“Monsters, humans, we’re all the same,” the man said, dismissing his compliment. “And as we’re all the same, I’m sure you understand exactly why I had to invite you here.”

Sans paused with a cookie halfway to his mouth. This was it. The part where he declared war. He’d hoped it would have lasted longer, he at least wanted to try the cookies you’d worked so hard on. He placed it back on the plate, glancing at your giddy smile. It was kind of like yesterday when he was talking to Frankie and JJ at Grillby’s. He didn’t sense any of the expected hostility from anyone present.

“to be honest, i thought i knew why but i’m havin’ doubts. go on, don machiavelli.”

He held up a huge hand. “You can call me John. No need for formalities between people like us.”

“...john, then. and you can call me sans.”

“Alright, Sans. Down to business, shall we?” He snapped his fingers and JJ handed him a huge map. “And the papers, son.”

“You got it, Pops.” JJ disappeared into the bookcases. Bigsby cleared a spot without being asked, and the map was spread immediately. Sans craned to look at it, but apparently without the papers it was meaningless because the Don ignored it for now.

“well, color me confused, john.” Sans said. This was so much less...bone-breaky than he expected.

“My little girl is the best thing that ever happened to me, Sans.” Uhhh...uh-oh. “I love my boys, of course, but little y/n had my heart from her first heartbeat. I mean, look at that sunny face.”

He patted your cheek, and you smiled sheepishly.

“I oughtta have you killed, you know.” He continued, earning himself a glare from you. Red and Edge bristled beside him, but Sans threw up a hand to stop them from acting harshly.

“Papa!”

“Just sayin’, sweet pea, you know how I hafta do this. Sans, if it were left to me you’d be dead. It’s not really personal, just gotta protect my family, you know?”

“y-yeah, i get it.” Sans said, cursing the stutter that crept into his voice. “so why am i alive, then? not that i’m exactly complainin’, mind you.”

JJ emerged from amongst the bookshelves with a stack of papers and put them on top of the map, taking his seat.

“My daughter likes you. She convinced me that this would be a beneficial arrangement for everyone. Always had a head for business, this one.”

Sans tried to stop the party in his soul, but he wasn’t stupid. Those words was enough to know exactly what was going on, as unbelievable as it was. He looked over at you with wide sockets, and you gave him a little wink. If he had a heart it would've stopped right there.

“Formalities aside, I’m giving my blessing to you and my daughter, Don Sans. She’s a firecracker, and smart as a whip, so I’m sure you’ll have your hands full. Shall we discuss the terms of our alliance?”

* * *

It took him a while after he left your house to realize he’d basically just been thrust into a relationship. Red heckled him about it most of the way home, but he didn’t even hear him. He was too busy thinking about you, and that dress, and the feel of your skin underneath his fingertips.

He had no clue when he’d see you again, but instead of the empty hope of sitting in the speakeasy, he was filled with a lighthearted knowledge that you wanted him, and that you’d find your way to him for certain.

He felt a warm feeling in his soul when he thought of you, and as he got home and peeled off his vest, carefully placing the skull pin somewhere safe, he placed a hand over his sternum, his magic buzzing and popping pleasantly as he conjured an image of your smile in his mind. He wasn’t ready to call it love, or soulmates, but it was something. An instant connection, that’s for sure.

“--LO? HELLO? EARTH TO SANS!”

He blinked and stared over at his brother’s concerned face. How long had he been talking?

“s-sorry, paps. what were you sayin’?” Was he blushing? He’s pretty sure he was blushing.

“YOU’VE BEEN STANDING THERE LIKE A ROCK IN A DAZE SINCE YOU CAME HOME. I CAN’T EVEN TELL IF IT WENT WELL.”

Right. Papyrus was still concerned with having to cover up a turf war. With any luck, this alliance meant he’d never have to hear a peep from the mobs as long as his career lasted.

“it went great, paps, better than great,” he said, clapping his hands to his brother’s shoulders. “it went so great, i don’t even have a pun to bother you with.”

“WELL, THANK GOODNESS FOR THAT, I SUPPOSE.” Papyrus chuckled, his smile returning to his face and banishing the worried look. “WHEN YOU LEFT YOU LOOKED TROUBLED, AND YOU WOULD ONLY TELL ME THAT YOU’D MADE A GRAVE MISTAKE.”

“mistake! it’s the best damn mistake i’ve ever made, paps. it’s great, really great.”

Great was the only word he could muster, but it was so beyond that! His soul felt so lightweight that he’d caught himself floating on the way home. Nothing in the world could have made him refuse, but if he had he was certain he’d have been dead where he sat. The arrangement was fair, more than fair actually. The two mobs would look out for each other, leave each other's business alone or help when needed, and if one got involved in a turf war, the other would send some muscle over. When you had leaned over and explained how it could benefit both sides financially, he’d barely heard a word because he was too busy focusing in on that sweet, bell-like voice. He’d been hoping, straining,  _ dying _ to just catch a glimpse of you again, and now here he was, full permission to date you…

And he’s standing here talking to Papyrus.

Holy crap, he had been in such a daze that he’d let himself be shown out without so much as properly talking to you!

“holy stars, am i an idiot? paps, I gotta send her a message! take her out! can you make reservations somewhere swanky for me while i write the letter out?”

“I’M NOT SURE WHAT’S GOING ON, BUT IT’S NICE TO SEE YOU HAPPY. THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL DO THAT POST-HASTE!”

* * *

You were a little miffed that Sans had shoved off so early. He had seemed excited to see you, and had hardly looked away from you the entire time, but...well, he had left so fast, without even talking to you. And after MaryJane made you so pretty! Or...Maybe you were overthinking it?

“Hey, Sis, Casanova sent you a message.” Frankie said suddenly, dumping a card in your lap and walking away as if he wasn’t curious.

You wasted no time in opening it, and relief spread through you as you read the words. Good, you  _ had _ been overthinking it.

 

_ sweetheart _

_ seems we have some catching up to do, about two weeks worth. meet me at café mostro at 7:00 tonight. wear anything, you’re beautiful as you are. _

_ i did like the blue, though. looks good on ya. _

_ xoxo _

_ sans _

_ p.s. i’ll be waiting _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date chapter soon!  
> Date chapter soooooooon!
> 
> [Meet the Parent dress ](http://pinterest.com/pin/556264991457995625/?source_app=android) (just add the black sash/belt and skull pin)


	4. Interrogation*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You help Sans with his work so he can pay attention to the real important thing here--you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad you guys like this story (:  
> I'm having a lot of fun with it, I have a lot of ideas.

You sipped a little wine at the bar, watching the door. The Café Mostro was a swanky place, run by under-enthused cat people who all called themselves BP. The only one with any cheer was the bartender, and once you’d decked him for trying to cop a feel and told him who you were waiting for, he didn’t seem interested in talking.

You weren’t stupid, so you weren’t upset that he was late. He’s a Don, and they’re busy. He didn’t forget, he was just working. Probably. But this was your second glass of wine, and you were really nursing them.

You checked your watch: 8:30. You sighed, signalling the bartender for another glass.

You’d wait ten more minutes.

* * *

“you have no idea what you’re making me miss, do you?” Sans snarled at the thug in his hands, who was a pretty sorry sight: face a purple mess and blood dribbling down his chin. His shipments of monster candy have been going missing for weeks, and he was _so close_ to figuring it out. There was no way he could leave without this vital information, not for anything. He’d caught this idiot just outside the corner store, bragging to someone about his latest pull of the stuff. Idiot.

“Fuck you, ya monster scumbag!” The thug spit on Sans’ dress shirt, and he glared at the bloody spray that marred his carefully selected date outfit. He tossed the thug back into his chair, and Edge started to move in again, but Sans stopped him.

“tell me what i need to know so i can get going. if i can get to my date in time, i promise i won’t kill ya.” Sans’ grin was a little too wide as he stuck his hands in his pockets. “and since you seem to know enough about my mob to track our shipments, you probably also know that i never promise things.”

“I said go fuck yourself,” the human sneered. “Whatever whore you got waitin’ probably went home with the bartender by now anyway.”

Before Sans could respond, the door to the interrogation room flew open with a crack as it bounced off the wall. Edge bristled but Sans stepped in front of him as you came stalking into the room, wearing a slinky blue dress that somehow looked softer than your hair. He was too distracted by the sudden appearance (and the ample cleavage) to say anything. Edge wasn’t.

“RED! YOU USELESS IMBECILE, YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO KEEP PEOPLE OUT!”

“s-sorry, boss...and, uh, other boss.” Red said from the doorway, nodding slightly at Sans. “she’s real persistent.”

“s-sweetheart,” Sans cooed, trying to block the view of the guy. “what’re you doin’ here? we’re supposed to meet at café most--”

“Yeah, two hours ago.”

Gulp. “ah, uh, is it that late? oh, sweetie, I promise i’ll be out in just a minute if you’ll--”

“Just this guy?” You gestured past him to the beaten man staring at you with wide eyes. You seemed to double-take, squinting at the guy. “Wait, you’re really having trouble with Vinny?”

“Y/n? S’at you?”

“Shut up, Vinny, nobody’s talkin’ to you.” You snapped, crossing your arms and returning your gaze to Sans.

“you two, uh, know each other?” Sans said, pulling at his collar. Had he picked up a Machiavelli thug on accident?

“Know each other? She broke my heart! Dated two years only to get dumped by text message!” Vinny said with disbelief, still staring right at you. You rolled your eyes, and Sans felt a possessive jealousy in his chest that this guy might... _know_ you. In that way.

“He cheated on me because I wouldn’t put out, so I dumped him.” You waved your hand like it was irrelevant, and a weight lifted from his chest. “If he tells you what you need, then can we go?”

“of course, it will only be--”

“Move.”

Vinny. They were seriously having trouble getting _Vinny_ to sing? You pushed past Sans, still stunned that you were even here, let alone taking control. Any other time you'd be delighted to have his look of awe directed at you, but right now you reached over and pushed his jaw closed as you passed. Look professional, jeez!

You knew exactly how to make Vinny talk. You plopped right down on his lap, throwing an arm around his neck and pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the blood from his lips.

“Listen, Vin, Big Daddy here needs some information, and seems to me you have it.” Your voice was smooth as butter, and you threw in the fluttering eyelashes and pouty lip that always made him weak.

“Tell ya for a kiss, Peach.” He muttered. You could feel Sans bristling behind you, but you ignored it. You brought a hand to his face in what seemed like a gentle gesture, and then you squeezed a nasty bruise on his cheek, making him yelp.

“Sorry, I’m a Don’s girl now.” You said. “And you just ruined our first date.”

“W-wait, you some kinda nasty monster fucker now? You with _him_?” His face contorted with disgust as he spat the word ‘him’, venom in every sound.

“ **you best watch yourself, or you’re gonna have a** **_b a d  t i m e,_ ** **pal.”**

“You should listen to the man, Vin.” You slapped Vinny across the face, and he sputtered. “Or I might have to pay a visit to your girlfriend in the flower shop.”

“Yeah, right, just try an’ hurt her, you won’t land a single hit.”

This was taking too long. You needed to expedite the process, or you weren’t going to get any time with Sans. You sighed in exasperation, grasping the idiot by the shoulders.

“Listen, I just wanna go on my date. So either you tell my honey here what he needs to know, or I’ll tell your little girlie about the _aquarium incident_.”

Despite the purple bruises, you could still see the color drain from his face. He hesitated, so you pulled out your phone and dialed.

“Hello? Is this Tina’s Bouquets?”

“A-alright! Alright! I’ll tell you everything if you swear to never mention it again!”

Your lips curled into a satisfied smile and you patted his shoulder. “Smartest thing you’ve ever said, Vinny.”

You slid off his lap and flounced over to sans, who was looking at you with a mixture of shock and pride.

“well done,” he said, chuckling.

“Not a problem, sugar skull~” You cooed, slipping your hands underneath his open vest to brush over his shirt. You heard his breath hitched and he covered the little blush that formed on his face with the back of his hand. “I’ll be upstairs when you’re done.”

They all watched you go silently, Sans still feeling the sensation of your fingers sliding over his shirt. It was a long moment before Red finally voiced the question he hadn’t considered.

“how’d she know where we were?”

* * *

Sans rehearsed excuses in his head all the way upstairs, but now that his hand was on the doorknob, he couldn’t think. Were you mad at him for missing the date? You hadn’t seemed mad when you left, but you waited two fucking hours for him. You had to be mad.

Despite the fact that you were probably furious, he couldn’t restrain the giddy excitement in his chest from knowing you were just on the other side of the door. He tried to push the “how” and “why” questions down, this wasn’t the time. He already knew he wouldn’t win in an interrogation contest, if what he just witnessed was any indication. Damn.  _Damn._

He opened the door before he had a chance to talk himself out of it, and his grin grew as he laid eyes on your form sitting on the bed. He let the door click closed behind him and began to remove his bloodstained vest.

“aquarium incident, huh?” He said, amusement twinkling in his eye. “sounds _fishy_.”

To his delight, you giggled. Your laugh was like a musical note, and it relaxed his whole body.

“Vinny got a lifetime ban from the aquarium for getting drunk and trying to fuck a seal.”

He paused in the loosening of his tie, staring at you wide-eyed. Well, he certainly hadn’t been expecting that. He started laughing, quietly at first, and then before he knew it he was holding his sides, doubled over.

“o-oh stars, y-you can’t be serious? no wonder he sang, can’t see him being able to _seal_ the deal with that girl if she knew!”

He felt a tug on his tie, loosening it but not removing it, and he opened his eyes to find you right there in front of him, hands sliding up the silk fabric as you pulled him closer.

“You wanna talk about Vinny all night, sugar skull?” You said sweetly, running a finger down his sternum, swiftly popping the top two buttons. He saw your face light up blue, reflecting his blush, illuminating your coy smile. You were full of surprises, like that button trick….man, his knees felt like jello right now. He needed to assure you weren’t mad at him, _now_ , before he ruins everything and ends up sleeping alone.

“no, but i do wanna say sorry about the date. i couldn’t get away.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m a Don’s daughter, Sans, it’s nothing I’m not used to. I know there will be things keeping you from me at times, stressful things you won’t always be able to leave at work. The least I can do is be patiently waiting to take your mind off it...right?”

“man, you’re perfect.” He mumbled, unable to control himself. He slipped his hands along the silken fabric on your waist, savoring each touch as he pulled your hips to his. Your skull pin rested on your dress strap, shining in the moonlight pouring in through his window. “what’re you doin’ with a chump like me?”

“Taking a chance,” you whispered. Your faces were mere centimeters apart, and he could feel your heartbeat pounding in your chest as you pressed against him. Stars, you _were_ perfect. You were here, with him, by your own choice, _again_ , and you went to all the trouble of convincing your family. This wasn’t some fling for you. You wanted him.

“i’m...just a useless bag of bones, sweetheart.” His fingers traced the seam of your dress up your sides gently. It'd been two fucking weeks, he wanted you _so bad_. “and yet...you went to all this trouble so we could be together…why? why m--”

“Stop worrying about the details and just kiss me, bonehead!” You huffed impatiently.

He did.

You squeaked as he crashed his teeth down on your mouth, and a feeling of lips pressed against yours. You wanted to ask him how he did that, but it was hardly the time. You pulled his tie taut, opening your mouth, and you were rewarded with a soft tongue that tingled as it swept your mouth. Without the bourbon to muddle your mind, everything was crystal clear and electric.

Compared to that night two weeks ago, he was starting slowly. Before, it had been as if he were desperate, like he was trying to touch you, kiss you, hold you, _fuck you_ as much as possible before time ran out. Maybe he had thought he’d never see you again, but now that you were here...he seemed to be memorizing every curve, every taste, slowly...perfect, he’d called you. If only he knew you were everything but that.

He did something with his tongue that made you shudder and moan, knees buckling. He caught you fast, and you could swear you heard a _growl_ escape his chest. You broke the kiss to look up at him, and his smile was wide.

“i take it you liked that?” He chuckled, adjusting his hands and yanking you upwards so your body was flush with his once again. “i got a few tricks of my own.”

“You’re very naughty, Mr. Sans,” you teased. “I’m a mob boss’ daughter, aren’t you worried about getting involved with me?”

“not this time i’m not,” he said, one hand moving to unzip your dress while the other went south towards your bottom. “i’m never letting you get away again, y’hear? was stupid of me to cast you out that mornin’, and i’ve regretted it every moment since you left.”

He certainly knew exactly what to say to make you shiver under his touch. Why you? If there had been a different girl at the bar that night would it be her standing here? Or would he have dismissed her?

You were startled out of your thoughts by one of his fingers hooking under your chin, bringing your gaze to him again.

“why’d ya do it, beautiful? why’d ya pick me? woulda been less trouble to find some other chump, someone human and not so dangerous.” His eyes appeared as if half-lidded.

“You aren’t going to stop asking until I tell you, huh?” He shook his head, one hand gently sweeping one of your straps off your shoulder. He leaned down to kiss your bare shoulder, and you sighed. “That. That’s why.”

“because i kiss ya?” His voice rumbled against your skin. “any ol’ joe can kiss ya.”

“No! I’ve been kissed before, that’s not it.” You said, slapping him slightly on arm. You pulled back, stepping towards the bed. You finished unzipping your dress, turning to glance over your shoulder at him. “It’s how every kiss lights me on fire. Like this is where I’m meant to be…”

You watched his face as you dropped the dress, a mixture of awe and shyness betraying his confident posture. His hands were sliding over your bare skin in seconds, warm bones against your flesh as he pressed you against him. You were glad you picked this lingerie set: light blue, just like he liked, as you could tell from the soft swearing that escaped his teeth as his hands ran over the fabric of your panties. The curve of your ass fit perfectly in the cradle of his pelvis, and you could feel his fully-formed magic pressing against your through your underwear and his slacks. He kept muttering how perfect you were as his hands travelled up over your hips and waist, hesitating for just the slightest moment before cupping your breasts gently through your flimsy brassiere.

“Mmm...like that...like I belong in your arms…” You managed to say between sighs. His every touch really did send fire through you, lighting a desire in your belly. You wanted a taste of the magic from that night again...but…

You stepped from his grasp once more, smirking at the disgruntled whine he gave you. You turned to face him, arms crossing to your opposite shoulders to cover your chest.

“Do you think I’m easy, Mr. Sans?” You asked coyly, smile curling upwards in a mischievous grin. “You haven’t even taken me out. What kind of girl puts out for less than flowers?”

Damn. You _were_ mad about that date. He stared at you, the curves of your body, your skin reflecting the moonlight spilling in through his window. _Fuck_ , you were even wearing blue underwear. At least you were playful, not stern. Playful he could do.

He straightened himself, using one hand to unbutton his shirt the rest of the way while the other slipped into his pocket. The heat in his pants betrayed the growing need to touch you, but he pushed the thought away and pulled a small box out.

“s’funny, i don’t remember you having these issues when i whisked you away from the bar that night.” He tapped the box against his skull thoughtfully. “an’ here i was gonna give ya this tonight. but if i ain’t gettin’ lucky, i could always just return it…”

He swiftly pulled the box away as you tried to snatch it, falling against his chest with a giggle. He chuckled as he caught you, his magic twitching in his slacks as you pressed against him.

He wound his arm around your waist tight, and your breath hitched as he stared into your eyes. He brought the box back down, pressing it into your hand gently. When you had it, his other arm wrapped tight around you as well, and he looked at you expectantly. Right, the box!

You suppressed a gasp as you opened the box to reveal a beautiful silver bracelet with blue opals. In the middle of it was a blue swirl with a skull on it, not nearly as cartoony or adorable as your pin. You recognized it, of course: the crest of the Skull Mob.

“figured if you were goin’ to so much trouble for me i might as well lock it down.” He said as you eagerly slipped it onto your wrist. “after all, people gotta know who they’re dealin’ with if they fuck with you.”

“It’s beautifu--”

He cut you off, pressing a kiss onto your lips with fervent desire. The ache you felt from your agonizing two-week separation was back with a vengeance as you melted underneath his kiss. His hands were everywhere, and he had you flat on your back on the bed almost immediately. You hitched your leg up a bit so he could press against you more comfortably, and he groaned as you slid a hand underneath his open shirt to stroke his ribs.

“s’almost like you’ve done this before,” he teased, playing with the strap of your bra.

“Yeah, almost.” You smirked and grabbed his collar, pulling him close for another kiss.

This is more than you hoped for. The bracelet had been your confirmation that you’d just signed yourself up for a relationship after one meeting, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to care, or even be scared. You’d been in relationships before where you’d taken it slow, playing the dinner and flowers game, the not-till-the-third-date routine, the hard-to-get act. These relationships always ended with a big pile of nothing, so why waste the time? He feels _good on you_ . He cares for your safety (not that your brothers would ever let any harm come to you, but the sentiment was nice), he wants you, he...oh God, he’s touching you _just right_ at the moment. You had considered actually hanging him out to dry tonight as punishment for the date, but the way he was tracing his fingers up your thighs, the way he was dragging his tingly tongue down across your collarbone while his fingers slipped under the band of your bra…fuck, you wanted him, you couldn’t hide it.

His hand left you to fumble with his belt, and you were actually trembling with anticipation as he finally slid it out of the loops. Your hand fluttered to the zipper...

_And then somebody fucking knocked on the door._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCKING COCKBLOCKER AT THE DOOR  
> [Date dress ](https://pinterest.com/pin/498140408778126786/?source_app=android)


	5. Promises, Promises*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interrupted coitus. Sans is late for work anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea why this took so long lol.  
> I'm really glad you guys like their dynamic. I really do too (:

The knock echoed through the room and you both froze, fingers only centimeters away from undoing his pants. You stared at each other for a long minute...before he started to look guilty.

“No. No, you’re not.”

He didn’t answer as he slid off of you, trying not to look you in the eyes. He fumbled to button his shirt a little.

“ _Sans. Don’t you d--_ ”

The knocking came again, and you heard the voice of the skeleton from downstairs, muffled through the door.

“sorry, boss, i know you’re busy, but the information we got from that kid...we gotta move on it tonight.” The last part was clear as day as Sans opened the door just enough to speak face to face with him. You could see the glint of his golden tooth reflecting the hall light.

“can’t it wait? i’m...i got company.” Sans grunted, annoyed.

“sorry, pal. we gotta go, like now.”

Fuck that. You didn’t wait two hours for this.

* * *

Red could feel the anger behind the door after he knocked. He must’ve interrupted the good part. He was talking through the door by the time Sans swung it open just enough to give him the meanest grimace he’d ever seen. Hmm, he still had clothes on, so unfortunately he hadn’t quite gotten the timing right enough to ruin it. His grin grew smug at the disgruntled look on his counterpart’s face.

“can’t it wait?” He grunted, annoyance clear in every feature. Man, he looked ready to kill, must have been a pretty good view he was pulling him away from. “i’m...i got company.”

_about to fuck, that’s whatchu was doin’._

“sorry, pal.” Red said with a slight chuckle. He did enjoy watching Classic get his knickers in a twist. “we gotta go, like now.”

It wasn’t a total lie. They did need to move tonight, but they had at least half an hour before they needed to start preparing. Just was more fun this way. Sans groaned and rubbed his temples with a small growl.

“fine. just let me--”

Suddenly he was shoved out of the doorframe, and Red’s eyesockets grew wide as he was faced with a pissed off, mostly naked _you_. He’d thought you were hot before when he saw you at your house, he’d thought you were fearless when you showed up this evening, but holy damn that had been the tip of the iceberg. You’d look better in red, though, he thought.

The look in your eyes made him stagger back a half a step, afraid you’d swing.

“Look, Muscle, I’ve been waiting all evening to get some time with this guy. I know Vinny, and I know the mob. You’ve got at least half an hour, right?” Why was he nodding? You ruined his game. “Good. So, the logical conclusion would be to…?”

“l-leave you to it?” Fuckin’ stutter giving him away.

“See? You can be smart.”

And with that, you slammed the door in his face, leaving him staring dumbly at the wood as if it would dissipate so he could watch. Where did Sans find a firecracker like that? Holy shit. You certainly didn’t fuck around, so to speak. He quickly came to his senses and knocked again.

“hey, woman! ya got a sister or somethin’?”

The laughter on the other side of the door was his only answer.

* * *

When you turned back to Sans, who had taken a seat on his bed, he had a very smug look on his face.

“hey, woman! ya got a sister or somethin’?” The other skeleton called through the door, making you chuckle. You made your way back over to him easily, that coy smile of yours still playing on your lips.

“you wanna jump my bones that bad, huh?”

“Can it, Casanova. Kiss me.”

“hmm...i liked ‘big daddy’ better,” he teased, pulling you down by the waist to straddle his lap. He was just itching to lay you down, to feel your skin against his magic again, and the compromising position of you across his lap sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. It was only repeated when you leaned in to whisper to him.

“Then let’s get to it, _Big Daddy._ ”

 _Fuck._ He flipped you over, pinning you to the bed.

“i don’t have nearly enough time…” He groaned, rutting his hips against you gently, testing. Your startled moan was very satisfying. “...to treat you like you deserve.”

“Mmm...don’t care.”

“really, i can’t. i gotta go...hnng...stop that…” He pleaded, trying to escape your lips on his collarbone. He can’t stay, he has to go...but _fuck he can’t think logically with you here._

A mischievous smile worked it’s way onto your face. Uh-oh.

He groaned as you rocked your hips upward. “you _tease_ .” Your hand grasped one of his ribs underneath his shirt. “fuck, sweetheart, really...i...damn. _damn._ ”

You were just so damn _soft_. And alluring. And that scent that always wafted off of you, like a field on a spring day...he wanted nothing more than to stay here and take his time with you. Stars, he’d never felt this way about anyone before.

He was going to kill the fucker that was demanding his attention tonight.

Suddenly he was startled out of his reverie by you pushing him off.

“Alright, if you gotta go.” You said, slipping out from beneath him. He let out a whining protest as he sat up, catching you by the wrist to prevent you from walking away as you stood from the bed. “Hmm?”

You looked at him with that cheeky fucking smile, from his desperate expression to the glow in his pants, threatening to break the seams. You brought your free hand to your chin, tapping it in mock thought.

“Well, you certainly can’t go off whacking thugs like _that_.” Before he knew it, you were kneeling on the floor in between his legs, pulling him to the edge of the bed. He inhaled sharply as you ran your hand over his bulge. “So let’s just take care of it quickly, and you can repay me when you get back?”

Your hands made quick work of his zipper, enjoying the look of awe and delight that crossed his face when he realized what you were doing. With his eager hands assisting, suddenly there it was. It was...oh, God, was it bigger than you remembered? Suddenly you weren’t so confident in your skills. You’d only sucked someone off like, twice, and they were nowhere near as huge as the pulsing blue member your new boo was sporting. The blue flush on his cheekbones was intense now, and you could swear there were actual stars in his eyesockets. Usually when you were with a guy, you wanted to get each other off as fast as possible and with as little conversation as you could, but he was so different. You wanted to take your time with him, to memorize his features. You wondered vaguely if magic was addictive like a drug.

Suddenly his cock bumped into your cheek, reminding you of what you were doing before you got caught staring at his face. Without missing a beat, the sly smile was once again on your face as you brought one hand up to gently stroke it. Fuck, the noise that escaped him was just so _hot_.

“oh, bunny, that feels nice…” He murmured as you wrapped your lips around the tip. He knew he should be speeding you up, trying to finish to get to work, but right now he didn’t give a shit about anything that wasn’t the way you were touching him. You took his length like a champion, no gagging or even hesitation, despite the small crack in your confident facade that he’d been delighted to catch when you first laid eyes on it. He hummed and shuddered as you bobbed up and down, slowly, slowly...fuck, you could take all night if you wanted to, as long as you didn’t stop loving him like this.

He was going to kill Red later, after all was said and done, for giving him a time limit to this. He’d make him eat his teeth, or sleep with the fishes, or whatever corny mob phrase he could think up when he wasn’t overcome with blissful shivers. He sure as shit wasn’t looking forward to leaving your side after this.

He was going to be late, he knew it.

But he didn’t really care.

* * *

Stupid thugs doing stupid shit is what the job boiled down to. It hadn’t taken long to disarm and tie them, it was the questions. So many questions that they were too dumb to answer. He tried not to be impatient, but the blood on his shirt was evidence enough that he wasn’t doing a great job of that. He didn’t kill anyone, he really tries not to do that, but he was on edge the entire time knowing you were probably growing restless back home. So he was...rougher than usual.

He finally managed to get some information out of them, but he didn’t really know what to make of it, and he was too exhausted to think on it. By the time he made it back to the house it was almost two in the morning, and he was more than a little melancholy. There was no way you were still waiting, you had to have left by now.

“Brother, it is very late! Did you...is that blood? Are you alright?” Papyrus said in a low voice as he came shuffling through the door. His surprise was eclipsed by the heavy sound of worry.

“m’fine, paps,” he reassured him, loosening his tie. “i didn’t kill ‘em.”

His brother’s concerned gaze made him more tired somehow. “Well, I didn’t expect you home _this_ late. You’d best apologize to your lady when you get upstairs.”

He paused as he hung his hat on the hook by the door, turning to his brother with a bewildered look.

“ya mean she’s still here? she didn’t leave?”

“If she left, she’s the sneakiest guest I’ve heard of. I made her tea about an hour ago and then she went back upstairs. Haven’t seen her go out the front door, and I haven’t mo...oh, okay! Good night, brother!” He called after him as he took off.

You were still here, he’d said. He took the stairs two at a time, desperate to see for himself. After four hours, you were still…

And there you were.

The moonlight spread across the bed, illuminating your sleeping form. You had apparently raided his clothes and helped yourself to a soft blue button-down shirt. Stars, what a perfect vision this was. Your hair was perfectly messy, your chest rising and falling slightly, face pressed against his pillow. The shirt crinkled where your waist dipped, and he could see the lace of your panties peeking out from the bottom, just barely. Who was this perfect girl who would wait so patiently for him? He reached out, running your hair through his fingers. So soft, so...his. His shirt, his bed, his house... _his human_.

“Mmmm...waz happ’nin, big daddy?” You said softly, stirring and yawning under his touch. “Didja get ‘em?”

He grinned at your sleepy little smile. “yeah, babe. got ‘em.”

He stood, stripping his shirt and pants quickly while you lazily rolled over twice to give him room in the bed. He wasted no time joining you, his ribs pressing against your back as he pulled you close. He marvelled at your perfect body, not for the first time, noting how you fit against him like a puzzle piece. Those sleepy noises you made as he pulled you against him were just as good as the lewd noises you were making earlier that night.

“you waited. thought you’da gone home.”

“Mmm...if I went home, Frankie and JJ woulda thought my date was disappointing and then you’d be dead. Or at least injured.”

He chuckled, nestling his face in the back of your neck, sighing contentedly.

“What did you find out?”

“just some grunts, didn’t know much. said they needed the monster candy for healing purposes.”

“What family were they...mmm...too tired to think of words. What family?”

“the gisettis hired ‘em. nameless thugs normally, apparently.” He said, slipping his hand under the shirt you’d stolen so he could feel your skin. “No idea what it all means.”

“Means they’re gonna fight,” you yawned. “Tomorrow we should tell Papa. He’ll wanna know.”

“sure thing, babe.”

And with that, you both lapsed into comfortable silence, his fingers tracing little circles in the spots where he could feel your pelvis bone. He wanted to trace every part of your body with his fingertips, to watch you sigh and squirm. But the mood wasn't right, so he stuck with this, content. It was a long time before you spoke again, and he was almost asleep.

“...Sans?”

“mmm?”

“I’m glad you made it back safe.”

“mmm. were ya worried?” You nodded sleepily. “i’m fast, sweetheart. nothin’ catches me.”

“That’s what JJ said the night he got his arm broken. Two centimeters to the left and it woulda been his back.”

He paused his lazy circles, considering what you said. Here was a girl who had probably seen every bad thing that could happen in the mob, and it had happened to her and her family. He hadn’t thought about that.

“hey...as long as you’re here waitin’ for me, i’ll never die out there.”

You shuffled in his grip a little, leaning your head back to glance over your shoulder at him. He knew what you were going to say, and he also knew that, against his better judgement, he’d agree.

“...Promise?”

“...yeah. yeah, i promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the end, I think red's just lucky this time.  
> They didn't immediately kill him. That's a plus!


	6. Killer Dame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not exactly Sailor Moon, but you can still kick some ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really truly sorry for how long it's taken to write this.  
> I have been working on some other stuff, and I just lost motivation for a while. Thanks to all my lovely friends on Tumblr who kept kicking my ass over this ♡♡♡

Sans slipped his vest on, his tie hanging loose around his neck as he dressed slowly, wishing he didn’t have to go anywhere with such an angel laying in his bed. His eyes flicked to the closet mirror, where he could see you flopped lazily over his silk sheets behind him, still wearing his shirt. He thought you couldn’t look more beautiful than when you were bathed in moonlight, but he’d found he was wrong when he’d woken up this morning to see you in the early morning sun. Or maybe it was simply the excitement of waking up next to you again. Hard to tell.

He knotted his tie finally, and sighed quietly, knowing he was done procrastinating. No more excuses, time to face the day.

His breath hitched as your arms slid around his waist and you pressed yourself against his back.

“Where you goin’, boneboy? Gonna leave your girl all alone in bed?” You purred, fingers dipping underneath his shirt in between the buttons as you nuzzled your forehead against his shoulder.

“hmmm… ‘my girl’...like the sounda that.” He smirked, turning around to run his hands down your arms, pulling you in. “yeah, i got some things to do today. mmm...i’ll miss you, though.”

You reached up to pull gently on his tie. “Was this your attempt at a Windsor knot?”

“uhh...it’s my attempt at...keeping my tie on?”

You rolled your eyes, and your hands got to work fixing it. “Let me help.”

With pleasure. He grinned down at you, hands in his pockets, as he watched you work with a little smile on your face, hair slightly messy from sleep still. Your hands were gentle as you pushed and pulled the fabric, and all too soon you were done, slowly sliding the knot up against his collar.

“There.  _ Now _ you look perfect.” You pulled on the tie a little so he would stoop down, and placed a sweet kiss on his cheekbone, and he could feel himself flushing a light blue. “Now, remember, you aren’t allowed to die out there, so kick their asses, huh?”

He chuckled, returning your kiss with one of his own on your temple.

“whatever you say, babe.”

* * *

“So after all that, you didn’t even get to bang again?” MaryJane stared over her ice cream at you incredulously.

“Not exactly,” you said, muffled by the spoon of mint chocolate chip ice cream in your mouth. “I mean, I uh...helped him out before he left.”

“But he didn’t return the favor?”

“It’s not like he did it to be mean, MJ. When he got back he was exhausted. And honestly...it was nice to just sleep. Like a real couple, you know?” You admired the bracelet on your wrist again, a smile playing on your lips.

“An’ here I thought I was gonna hear a juicy story about the ecto-dong again.” She said, rolling her eyes as she polished off her sundae.

“Hey, get back to ya tomorrow,” you giggled. Your phone buzzed, so you pulled it out, and were immediately frowning at the screen.

“What, does ‘killer dame’ gotta be somewhere?”

“Shh! Someone could hear you, you know,” You scolded, pocketing the phone again. “Yes. Some problem with a Gisetti thug causin’ trouble in JJ’s name.”

“Geez. Guess our date’s cut short?”

You nodded, taking one last bite of ice cream and sliding your money across the table to her. “Sorry, MJ, duty calls, eh?”

* * *

Red was in a mood.

And not a good one.

Sans had ripped him a new one for interrupting last night, and though the comedian never raised his voice, he still felt thoroughly scolded when he got saddled with double rounds. He kicked a stone beneath his feet with a low growl. The streets were always boring during the day, which is why he was happy his rounds were usually at night. Yet, here he was, wandering the territory (which was about twice as big now, thanks to Sans’ new bunny), listening for signs of trouble.

He stomped down the sidewalk, people skirting him like he was diseased as anger rolled off him in waves. Wasn’t  _ his _ fault. Why should  _ he _ be punished? He growled at a paperboy who tried to sell him a paper, and shoved his hands in his pockets, looking around at the intersection. Quiet. He could take a break if he wanted to.

He passed by an ice cream shop and thought he might as well stop in. He was about to cross the street when he saw you emerge from the store, looking around before darting into an alleyway.

“huh. speak of the goddamn devil.” he muttered, changing course to follow your suspicious behavior.

His pace quickened as he weaved through the alleys after you. How were you so fast in those goddamn heels?! He could hear them clicking rapidly ahead of him, and followed the noise until...silence.

He rounded the corner…

...just in time to see you roundhouse kick a dude in the face.

He froze, standing rigidly at the mouth of the alley as the guy hit the ground, his buddies crying out in anger as you carefully kicked off your heels, removed your gloves, and cast your purse aside.

“Hey, boys. Heard you were talkin’ shit about my brother.”

“It’s that Machiavelli slut! Hey whore, your brother’s the least o’your worries. You’re gonna pay for kickin’ Mikey down like that.”

His legs wouldn’t move. He needed to jump in, defend you, but they just wouldn’t--

“Gimme a  _ break _ !” You sighed, sidestepping the first guy’s swing with ease. You grabbed the back of his neck and brought your knee up full force into his solar plexus, twisting to toss him behind you as he heaved his lunch, trying to catch his breath. The other three seemed just as shocked as Red was, and you looked at them expectantly. “I ain’t got all day, you know.”

“Fuckin’ bitch!”

“Just don’t get any of your crusty blood on my dress!”

You ducked the next one, sweeping his legs out so that he fell on his face, and picked him up by the back of his ratty Polo and the seat of his pants to toss him directly into his friend, sending them skidding away with a shout. God you were enjoying this, even if this was definitely ruining your dress. You’d seen these assholes before, disloyal jerks who’ll do anything to make a few bucks.

Fuck, where did that last one go?

“hey, look out!” That voice...Sans’ muscle-man? What was his name, Red?

You turned just in time to catch a glimpse of him at the end of the alley, but before you could process what you were seeing, pain exploded in your face as the last thug’s knee connected with your cheekbone. You cried out, but your vision was immediately obscured by a flash of dark red as the skeleton returned the knee to the guys own face, landing lightly in front of you with his fists raised.

“sorry, princess, ain’t no time to be takin’ a nap.” He said, eyes darting to the grumbling men pulling themselves to their feet.

“Right!” You bounced to your feet, falling into a back to back stance with him as the thugs fell into a circle around you. “I coulda taken them, y’know”

“sans would fuckin’ kill me if i letcha fight alone.”

“Sans won’t know I was fighting.”

“i dunno how you think that’ll work, but i guess we can work the details later.”

The one in front of you...Mikey. The first one you had hit when you entered the alley. He was sneering at you, eyes flicking to the skeleton at your back.

“So what, this yer little boyfriend? You fuckin’ this dirty monster?”

“Well, not this one in particular,” you responded sweetly, striking his wrist to redirect his fist, elbowing him hard in the back of the neck and sending him to the ground. Out cold. Red chuckled behind you and you heard two more hit the concrete.

“yeah, this my boss’ girl, so go easy on ‘er or it might be my head.” He reached back and grabbed your hand, spinning you around to avoid the guy coming in from the side. “hey, you’re a pretty swell dancer, sweetheart!”

“You’re pretty light on your feet yourself!” You joked as he jumped slightly to avoid a sweep. You pulled him behind you, releasing his hand to bring your fist directly into the face of the asshole who had tried to sweep him. He was guffawing behind you, your little joke must have tickled his funny bone. You admired his skill, as the two he’d put down tried to get up and his magic just bashed them against the wall, knocking them out. Magic is so useful, you couldn’t help but think.

Hmmm...one, two, three, four...where’s the fifth one?

_ Cl-ick. _

“Don’t move a fuckin’ muscle, or I’ll pop this freak!”

Red seemed shocked as the gun pressed against his temple, and panic set into his sockets. You guessed he couldn’t move fast enough to dodge the bullet from point-blank.

You slowly raised your hands and put them on them he back of your neck in surrender. “You want me that bad? Well…” Your fingers dipped below the back of your dress slowly.

“...you’ll have to get in line.”

_ Bang! _

Red’s sockets widened in shock as he felt the gun fall from his temple, blood scattering across the back of his skull. The man behind him dropped like a sack of potatoes, and you lowered your small pistol with a breath of relief. You were by his side in a second, wiping the blood off with a handkerchief and an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, slugger, hope you weren’t too worried there. I’m a pretty good shot, thank the Lord for that.”

He couldn’t do anything but stare in disbelief as the blood pooled at his feet, and he felt the man’s soul turn to dust behind him.

* * *

You frowned disapprovingly into your compact, the bruise on your cheek getting darker every second. Damn. If Red hadn’t distracted you, you might have dodged...you were usually more careful than this.

A mug of coffee was planted in front of you suddenly as Red reappeared from the kitchen of Sans’ house, gripping a bottle of mustard.

“alright, fuckin’ talk.” He scowled, planting his coccyx in the chair across from you. “what the fuck did i just witness?”

“What do you mean?” You asked innocently.

“don’t play dumb, sweetheart. You just walked knowingly into a street fight, fucking annihilated five dudes(well okay three dudes), and killed one of them with a lady pistol. then you threatened the others, left a card behind, and left ‘em there with their friend’s dead fucking body. so what. the.  _ fuck. _ ”

You sighed, pulling a copy of your calling card from your purse and sliding it over to him.

He took the card, turning it over in his hands to inspect it. ‘Killer Dame’ was written in curly letters, with a lipstick mark. There wasn’t any other information.

Hm. Killer Dame. He’d heard that name before. Some woman, a thug that fights in the name of the Machiavelli family. One of the reasons her family is still feared so heavily these days...and her victims are always unable to describe her features, suspiciously enough.

“...you’re killer dame? the mistress of the night?” He scoffed, tossing the card back to you. “no offense, princess, but it’s hard to believe you’ve capped over a thousand thugs. besides, from what i heard, killer dame has been around for like a decade, you’d have to have been like 16 when you started.”

“14, actually.” You said, returning your gaze to the mirror. “Damn. You think Sans’ll notice this?”

“...you can’t be serious.”

“Very serious. Saved  _ your _ tailbone, didn’t I?” You sighed, clicking the compact closed. “Look, you don’t have to believe me, you just gotta keep your trap shut about what you saw. If you didn’t look so much like my sweetheart I probably would’ve capped you, too.”

“i...what...how?”

“I’ve been a target my entire life,” you explained, bringing the mug to your lips. “After several kidnappings and watching my brothers almost die trying to save me, trying to protect my family name, over and over again, I decided I’d had enough. I started to seek the trouble before it could reach my brothers so they wouldn’t have to deal with it.”

“and that  _ worked _ ?” He asked, believing you in spite of himself.

“Well, it was kinda rough for a while, but yeah I learned how to handle myself.” You gave him a very pointed look. “My brothers can’t know about this. Nobody can. Can you keep a secret, or do I need to stage an accident?”

“i can’t lie to the boss.”

“Red.”

“...i just won’t tell him.”

“tell me what?”

You both jumped as Sans materialized behind Red, loosening his tie. He’d only heard Red saying he wouldn’t tell him, and he was about to ask again when…

...he noticed your appearance. He froze, his hand clutching his tie as his eyelights traveled over your dirty dress. He sucked in a breath as they landed on the dark bruise forming on your cheekbone.

“...what the…” he trailed off, moving swiftly to the other side of the table to gingerly tip your face up towards him. His thumb brushed lightly against the bruise, and you winced. “oh, bunny...what happened?”

He turned to glare at Red accusingly.

“hey, don’t gimme that look, i didn’t do it!” Red said swiftly, putting his hands up in defense. You patted his hand that lay lovingly on your cheek.

“He saved me,” you said. “I went to have lunch and ice cream with MJ, but was careless on my way back and I got lost. He saw these guys follow me into an alley and he beat ‘em off me before they could really get me.”

Relief filled his chest as he sighed, dropping his gaze from Red and back to you. He leaned down and kissed the mark on your cheek gently as Red relaxed behind him.

“shit, babe. do i need to put a detail on you? it...wasn’t because of me, was it?” He was worried about this. About people not approving of this union between their families...not approving of your feelings for each other. Monster/human relationships were still pretty frowned upon, and he couldn’t stand it if he’d been cause for your pain.

“Oh, sweetie...no, it was just a plain ol’ mugging. They had no idea about you. Didn’t even know who I was.” Your hands came up to cup his own face, and you leaned up to press a reassuring kiss against his teeth, making him sigh as he returned it.

“mmm...good…” He adjusted his hands to cradle the back of your neck, kissing you harder. You’d dodged a huge bullet with Red being there to help out, and he needed to reassure himself that you were still here, that you still wanted this. He was sure you’d seen worse fights in your life, your family being who they were, but he was still so scared you’d run away.

“ugh, get a fuckin’ room.” Sans flipped Red off, making him scoff. “classy, boss.”

Sans didn’t even hear him, too busy staring into your eyes as you pulled away, smiling shyly up at him. How'd he get so lucky to have this sweet, innocent thing in his arms once again?

“So, Big Daddy...how was _ your _ day?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF  
> Fluff, action, more fluff. Also, you killed a guy. How's that feel?
> 
> [Lunch date dress](https://pinterest.com/pin/306244843394052096/?source_app=android) (and subsequently Killer Dame outfit)


	7. Dinner and a Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You want to make dinner for your new beau...  
> ...too bad your old one won't leave you alone.  
> Sans decides he finds strong women incredibly attractive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey!  
> Listen, hear me out here.  
> I know it's been a long time, but I have been wanting to come back to this forever. I'm not exactly fully coming back to fics, generally I still am focusing on SSiYC. HOWEVER I watched Goodfellas last night, and received inspiration, so here we go again with this one!

You were proud to say that your family made very, very good food.

You were Italian. How could you not? From meatloaf to pasta cavatappi, or meatballs, or spaghetti, or chicken Alfredo, there was nothing you didn't have a secret family recipe to. As such, you also prided yourself on how well you knew your pasta.

And the stuff that Papyrus had served you that first night, after the incident with the “mugging”, was most likely  _ not _ pasta. Maybe it had once been pasta, but now it was nothing more than a soggy, burnt mess in tomato sauce (how something could be both burnt  _ and _ soggy, you had no idea). Also, you were pretty sure you had screeched like a pterodactyl when Sans had squirted ketchup on his.

After recovering from a mild heart attack at the perversion of your country’s main export, you had told Papyrus you weren't hungry.

Queue twenty minutes of convincing him that no, you didn't need to take any home and no, you weren't feeling ill.

In the end, you had to leave without eating, and without getting any more alone time with your new beau. He was reluctant to let you go, the thrill of that fire in his sockets making you almost inclined to agree, but you insisted. Otherwise your brothers would hunt him down.

But since Papyrus had healed your bruise, they had no reason to keep you away, and it wasn't more than a few days before you planned to show up on his doorstep again, groceries in hand.

There was no way you were letting this spaghetti monstrosity go uncorrected.

Not on yours or any other italian’s watch.

* * *

The grocery store was always packed on weekends, but today was surprisingly quiet. You slid your sunglasses on to try to remain unseen, not wanting to get dragged into anything today.

In, out, and cooking up at your Vertebae’s place in twenty. Hopefully.

“Thanks for the ride, Frankie,” you said, swinging over to give your brother a peck on the cheek. He pretended to wipe it off, false disgust on his face even as he fought back a smile.

“Yeah, yeah. Don't mention it.”

“Okay, I won't.”

He chuckled. “Ya fuckin’ bitch.”

You felt your grin widening. “Softie.”

“Slut.”

“Impotent.”

“Necrophiliac.”

“Hey, he isn't actually dead,” you rolled your eyes. “He’s got this magic, an’ it--”

“No! No, no, nonono, nope, uh-uh,” Frankie said quickly, covering his ears. “Nope, told ya never to tell me how it works, no, no. Out. Out. Get out. Go on.”

You laughed as he tried to push you out of the car, following his movements to get out quickly. You waved as he drove off, giving you the finger behind him as he went. You returned it with enthusiasm. Ever since he got engaged and you graduated high school, you had spent less and less time with Frankie. It was nice to have these normal sibling moments, you thought, as the taillights of his burgundy Maserati disappeared around the corner.

You pulled your flowy cardigan around your shoulders, wrapping it around your exposed tummy and wondering if a midriff had been a good idea after all. It wasn't that it made you uncomfortable, hell no, you were all over the charts fashion-wise (but always stylish, of course. As an heiress to a "very lucrative clean energy business" you had quickly learned to look the part). It was more that it was unseasonably chilly for late spring.

But yes, you concluded, you wanted to go straight to Sans’ after this, and you wanted to look good when he saw you. Although, you're pretty sure he thinks you'd look good in a paper bag. Despite that, Mama always said that a woman shows she loves her man with a little effort, even if it's as minimal as coordinating your sweats and your headband. Shows them you still want to impress him, even if it's just a little. You suppose it's similar to the notion that a good man always opens the door, or walks closer to the street, no matter how long they've been together. Maybe they're a little outdated, but the sentiment is there.

You waved to the manager when you entered, and he nodded back. There weren't any pickups today, so it wasn't necessary, but you liked to keep up appearances. You grabbed a basket and made a beeline for the pasta section.

You had an idea of what you wanted to make, a traditional Sicilian dish that was basically fried rice balls stuffed with meat and cheese, but something told you that it would be better to start out with pasta, so it was at least familiar to your spaghetti-loving friend. Sans mentioned the guy hardly ate anything but spaghetti, which was surprising since he was so tall and strong-looking, and didn't give off an air of someone who was picky like that.

In any case, you looked carefully for the specific pasta you needed...ah, there it was.  _ Pastina _ . Perfect little rice shaped pasta.

You grabbed a couple of boxes, and then some breadcrumbs, and turned to head towards the fresh tomatoes before you ran bodily into someone.

“Woah, sorry,” you squeaked, shaking your head.

“Never a problem, sweet cheeks.”

Oh  _ no _ . You internally groaned as you looked up at the face of your latest dating flop, Dennis Ricci. Crap, you totally forgot he lives in this area.

...Actually, you just plain forgot about him.

Denny was from a smaller outfit, a family that worked underneath the Machiavellis, generally money launderers and petty thieves. They turned tricks, stole cars, that kind of thing. Denny, well, he always fancied himself important, and you had liked that cocky attitude at one point, mistaking his bravado for something more than just peacocking. Unfortunately, you had quickly learned that a set of dangerous baby blues like his weren't enough to sustain somebody with the personality of a wet noodle.

“Oh, hey Denny. Whatcha doin’ here?” You asked nonchalantly, pushing your sunglasses on top of your head, knowing he had already recognized you.

“Lookin’ for my girlfriend, ironically. About yea tall, fine as hell, daughter of a very powerful man. Have ya seen ‘er?”

You wanted to roll your eyes so badly, but that would just make him angry. And angry Denny is just annoying.

“Can't say I have.”

“Oh, wait, you're right,” He sucked in a breath dramatically, pretending to think. “I think I heard somewhere, and now, mind you, this is just gossip...but I thought I heard that youse was seein’ one’a them monsters nowadays.”

“Am I? Is your source pretty reliable?” You asked, flipping your hair over your shoulder in annoyance.

“I suppose. Vinny always talks, but not much good usually comes of it.” Denny shrugged. “So?”

“So?” You asked back, raising a brow at him.

“ _ So _ . Did you really bump uglies with the notorious Don Sans?”

“Well, we certainly didn't play hopscotch,” you snorted, pushing past him to head towards the tomatoes. He followed you, and you sighed as he started in again.

“But what about me? What about  _ us? _ ”

“There is no ‘us', Denny. Not since you decided to fuck around with Janice.”

“Woah, hey, babe. Are you still hung up on that?” He quickened his pace to cut you off, leaning nonchalantly against the tomato bin. He lowered his voice. “Look, I said I was sorry, and I won't do it again, you know? Baby, it's the  _ mob _ . Everyone cheats on their wife or girlfriend at least once, that's just how it is. Everyone does.”

“Not on me, they don't.” You replied sharply, gathering the tomatoes you needed. “My father never did it to my mom, and I won't stand for it either.”

“Aw, c’mon, Marina,” he cooed, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear, trying out his best doe eyes. Using your middle name, like it was some secret password. Tch. “Listen, I promise, no more jerk, eh? No more funny business. I'm gonna be a made man, baby, no lie.”

You looked up at him incredulously. “You? They're gonna waste their time to make  _ you _ a wiseguy?”

“You know it, sweetcheeks. You're lookin’ at a future boss, right here,” he sang, puffing up his collar and waggling his eyebrows at you.

You faked some enthusiasm for the fun of it.

“ _ Wow _ . Little Dennis Ricci is gonna be a made man. Well, doesn't that just change everything?” You whistled, before rolling your eyes finally. “Oh, wait, no it doesn't.”

“Dammit, can’t you act like a normal fuckin’ broad just  _ once _ ?” He hissed, catching your arm before you could go anywhere. “Take the fuckin’ hint, get off your ridiculous high horse and come back to me already!”

“Take. Your hand. Off. My arm.” You growled, and there was a long, silent moment before he did just that, shrinking under the heat of your glare. “Have you forgotten,  _ Dennis _ , that we are standing in the middle of a goddamned  _ grocery store _ ? Have you forgotten, perhaps, exactly  _ who the fuck I am _ ?”

“Look, baby, I didn't mean anythin’ by it, you just know, you know?” He backpedaled, holding his hands up as if to soothe you. “You know I--I care about ya, doll, that's all, I just need a chance to show ya.”

“Not in a million fuckin’ years. Even if I was single, incredibly horny, and lost every number but yours. Oh, and it isn't like ranks or anything mean a goddamned thing to me, but for the record, a Don trumps a made man any day.” You turned to stalk back down the aisle towards the deli meats, but paused, turning back to where he stood rooted on the spot. “And Denny?”

“...Yeah, babe?”

“I'm not your babe, your doll, or your sweet cheeks. And if you ever fucking touch me without my permission like that again, I'm gonna chop off your balls and feed ‘em to your crew. We clear?”

“....Crystal.”

* * *

Sans sighed as he shucked his jacket, hanging it alongside his hat in the foyer.

It had been a very. Very.  _ Very _ . Long couple of days. He couldn't stop thinking about you, and the little teases he got from your Snapchat were enough to make any guy pray, no matter how religious. He was missing you, terribly, and especially after a long day like today.

Three of his joints came up short last night. It wouldn't have bothered him, exactly, only Mutt was busting his balls about it, because Black was busting  _ his _ . There was a reason those two were in charge of finances, though, so he had to at least look into it.

Coming up short, it wasn't unusual. The places he ran were instructed to give a few drinks on the house every night, or give some free chips every now and then for gamblers. But the consistency and timing of these three, now that was a problem. So he'd been around several places today alone to have a chat...at the very least, they had picked up what he had put down and hopefully would be a little more...conscious.

On top of that, he'd tracked down three more of the jackasses Vinnie had squealed on, and recovered twelve crates of monster candy for his warehouses, with leads for two dozen more. He was sore, tired, pent up, and not in the mood to lie about Pap’s cooking.

He paused to listen, see if Pap was distracted so he could slip upstairs unnoticed. He heard humming, and then laughter.

Wait. That was a woman’s laugh. Did Papyrus have a girl over? Oh, man. This he had to see. He’d lie about spaghetti for that.

“WOWIE, you're really good at cooking, human! I never would have guessed that your secret ingredient was butter! And I never would have thought to make deep-fried pasta balls!”

Deep-fried pasta balls? Sounded good to him, actually.

“Thanks, Papy, you're too sweet. It's really my Ma who did all the work, I just follow the recipe.”

He stopped dead, partway to the kitchen. He recognized that voice. Could it…?

He blinked quickly to the archway to the kitchen, and sure enough, there you were, dressed all cute and casual in high-waist jeans that showed off your perfect ass and a strip of skin that was more enticing than lingerie. Your hair was tied back loosely, and you had long sleeves pushed up to your elbows, wrists deep in a pasta mix. He could see you had tied up one of Papyrus’ aprons to fit your short frame, and it hung past your knees.

Papyrus was the first to notice his appearance, and he looked up from where he was patting breadcrumbs onto pasta balls to smile at him.

“Brother! You're home early!”

You perked up immediately, and he was already across the kitchen by the time you turned around to smile at him. That smile was worth diamonds to him.

“Hey, you,” you purred, holding your pasta-covered hands out of the way so he could pull you in by the apron strings.

“hey, yourself, babydoll. what’re you doin’ here?” He breathed, still surprised and a little disbelieving.

“Your lovely lady-friend said that she liked my pasta so much, that she wanted to show me how to cook some other things!” Papyrus interjected, underscored by the hiss of the fryer as he dropped one in. “This one is called  _ arachnid! _ ”

“ _ Arancine _ ,” you corrected gently. “Except it isn't quite arancine, because we’re using pasta instead of rice. But it's close.”

“smells awesome,” he said, and then he grinned down at you, thumbs brushing over the strip of skin exposed by your midriff top. “looks even better. can’t wait to  _ taste it _ .”

You smirked up at him, and gave him a little peck on the cheekbone before turning in his grip to lean over the pasta bowl again. “Well, sugar skull, it's gonna be another twenty minutes or so. Can you wait a bit?”

_ *no _

_ *not the way you're rubbin’ that ass on me like you don't know what you're doin’ to me _

_ *i’m the luckiest skeleton in this godforsaken city _

“yeah. good things are worth waitin’ for. i’m just gonna go change.”

You jumped a bit as he landed a swift smack on your ass, and you felt your face get warm as you giggled. You glanced back at him, and he only winked, a shit-eating grin on his face, as Papyrus looked up at you both.

“What did you say, Sans? I couldn't hear you over the sound of the fryer!” 

“i said i’m gonna go change,” Sans repeated, backing away from you reluctantly. “don't be goin’ anywhere, beautiful.”

“Wouldn't dream of it, Big Daddy.”

Oof. He doesn't think he's ever changed that fast in his life. In fact, when you're around, he's always in a hurry to get things done--can't wait to get a moment with you it seemed.

Which is why, when he hit the bottom of the stairs, and he saw Red and Edge coming toward him with some human grasped firmly between them, he groaned audibly.

“what now?” He sighed. He wasn't gonna lie, after all this mob stuff it was hard not to get upset to be caught for business in his sweatshirt and shorts. That, and this was just another thing that would keep him away from  _ you _ .

“caught ‘im sneakin’ around outside. looks like we have a  _ rat problem _ ,” Red growled.

“Fuck you, I ain't a rat! I'm gonna be a made man, you know, and you'll be fuckin’ wrecked for so much as layin’ your dirty fingers on me!”

“EXCUSE YOU, MY HANDS ARE VERY METICULOUSLY CLEAN,” Edge scoffed. “NEVER HAVE I MET A RUDER THING THAN THIS BILGE-RAT PRICK.”

“Just take me to your Don already so I can clear all this up and leave, monster.”

“we already  _ did _ , ya idiot,” Red grumbled, bringing up his free hand to grip the guy’s hair, forcing him to look at Sans. “take a good, long look, kiddo, ‘cause this is him.”

The human stopped struggling for a moment to look Sans up and down. “...Really?”

“well, sorry, but you caught me relaxin’ for dinner,” Sans snapped. “generally i like to change into something more comfortable when i get home at the end of the day...which reminds me--why’re you snoopin’ around my house at this time of night, huh?”

“I don't have to tell you nothin’.”

Sans was about to open his mouth to respond when he heard a frustrated sigh from the kitchen, and then you came out with hands still wet from washing off pasta.

“Goddammit, I fuckin’ knew I knew that voice,” you sighed in frustration. You looked so cute and delicious, all riled up and pouty...but he reached out to stop you anyway.

“it’s okay, babydoll, he was just on his way out,” Sans soothed, admiring the way you smiled up at him as he touched your shoulder.

You patted him, relaxing slightly...and then walked right over to the guy anyway. In one fluid motion, before he could do anything, you had drawn Red’s gun from his holster and stuck it to the guy’s chin.

Everybody froze, mostly from shock, but the guy seemed to realize it wasn't an idle threat because he shut his mouth, whatever snarky remark he had planned dying on his lips.

“Sans, meet Dennis Ricci. Denny, this is Sans. And this--” you waved at the skeletons still holding him. “--is Red and Edge. Now, I'd ask why you're here, but I'm pretty sure I know why. You followed me from the grocery store, didn't you?”

“...Listen, I just wanted to see all this monster business for myself, babe.”

Sans’ socket twitched.  _ Babe? _ Who the fuck did this guy think he was? He was about to step forward, but you raised a hand to stop him. Casually, as if it was the most normal thing you could do, you moved the gun to press against the zipper of his jeans instead, and every guy in the room simultaneously sucked in an anticipatory breath.

“What did I say?” You scolded.

“That you're not my babe, and if I touch you without your permission you’ll chop my balls off and feed them to my crew,” he recited dutifully. You cocked the gun, and he started to really sweat. “C-c’mon, y/n, have some sense here, put the gun down!”

“One more slip-up, Ricci, and I’m not only going to your father, but I'll go to  _ mine,  _ and then you can forget about being a made man.” You flipped the gun effortlessly in your hand, handing it back to Red handle-first. Red had a strange, smug look on his face like he was proud of you, or that he almost expected that. He retrieved his gun, holstering it slowly as he watched the scene closely. “Take a good look at these men, Denny. You only kept your junk because I want to make a good impression. These men own you now, understand?”

The young man nodded vigorously, and Edge and Red exchanged a look with Sans, who nodded. They released him, and Denny rubbed his wrists absently.

“So, Big Daddy,” you said sweetly, turning to slide a hand up his shirt to rest on his sternum. “Anything you need this prick to do right now?”

He couldn't focus on giving orders when you were standing so close, who did you think he was? A saint? All he could focus on is how  _ incredibly  _ hot that whole display was. Damn if he didn't love that fire of yours.

“...probably, but i honestly can't think of anything at the moment.”

“Why, distracted?”

“more than a little,” he practically growled, your cute little smirk threatening to send him to his knees any second.

There was a collective groan from all three of the guys behind you, and Sans looked up at them momentarily.

“get him outta here. quick. and be back in time for dinner, y/n made it special.”

“you got it, boss.” Red grabbed Denny’s arm and disappeared, Denny’s protests cut short as he blipped out of existence.

“ _ Woah _ . So he can do that, too? Can you all do that?”

“YES, BUT IT'S AN INCREDIBLY LAZY WAY TO TRAVEL,” Edge sniffed, turning to leave the room. “I’M GOING TO WASH UP FOR DINNER. I HOPE I'M NOT WASTING MY TIME ON FOOD AS INEDIBLE AS THAT GOODY-TWO-SHOES’ SPAGHETTI.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find it really interesting that my different reader characters have different inspirations.  
> In SSiYC, it's mostly music and songs that I find help me build her character and story. I guess with her, she has a lot of emotion and turmoil, and it can only be perfect. Perfectly imperfect.  
> In QH, it's more innate, and usually I get inspired by ideas for the people around her(Doc). Doc is very sweet, and naive, and easily misled. It makes it easy for me to form her around the mistakes the others make.  
> As for Silver, in this story...  
> Clothes. I honestly get so much inspiration for her and her story just by looking at clothes and deciding when she'll wear them. As such, I'll be sure to add links to the specific clothes she's wearing in each chapter. Look at them or don't, depending on how much you want to leave to imagination, but it really helps me feel her character!  
> And as such, [ HERE ](http://pinterest.com/pin/498140408778168180/?source_app=android) is her outfit from this chapter. Styliisssshhhh


	8. Dessert*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You might call it dessert, but Sans calls it the main course. Either way, he's eating out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my 150 follower milestone gift, I asked tumblr for suggestions of which less often updated story they wanted to see an update to.  
> The top one was actually DDGD, which I AM making a chapter for, but I thought I would do this one because it was already 75% done.  
> This is like...99.8% smut.  
> Explicit content ahead! Nothing else important happens! Feel free to skip if you don't like smut!

“so, i got a question.” Sans mumbled against the back of your neck. He was currently wrapped around you on the couch, your dinner plates discarded on the coffee table as Goodfellas played on Netflix on the TV. “well, several questions.”

“I might have answers,” you said quietly, his hands roaming over your arms and belly, ghosting over your fully-clothed breasts and driving you wild.

“denny looked awfully terrified of you,” he noted, nipping at your nape. “have you actually shot some poor joker in the dick before?”

Yes.

“Ha, you think I'm the type, sugar skull?”

“i dunno, you could be a serial killer for all i know. a very sexy, very talented serial killer.” He chuckled, his low voice sending a thrill down your back. “then again, in families like ours, s’not like you’d ever need to cap somebody yourself, either.”

You laughed, and he practically purred. He fucking loved that noise.

“Next question, handsome,” you prodded, accentuating your request by pressing your perfect ass against him.

“mmm...i forgot,” he teased, lightly touching the strip of skin exposed by your midriff top. “but i could always skip to question three…”

“What's that?”

“when can i finally take a bite of the  _ main course? _ ” His voice was husky as he nipped your nape and you hummed as you felt a spinning sensation...and then pillows at your back as he laid you on his bed.

“Are you really that hungry, Sans?” You teased as he kissed your stomach, eyelights flashing playfully at you. “Because it seems more like you’re  _ thirsty _ .”

His chuckle was enough to make a shiver run down your spine.

“you know, bunny...that dinner you made was really great and all...but i’m feeling more like  _ eating out _ tonight.”

Oh, hell _ yes _ . He leaned down to kiss you feverishly. You sighed against his mouth, the need in your heat becoming all-too-obvious as his fingers brushed the inside of your thigh. It had been weeks since your first romp together, and many days since you'd ended up alone as he went to handle his business, and all that want and need that you had been tamping down for your own sanity was suddenly aflame once more as he leaned in to mutter in your ear.

“whaddya say, beautiful...wanna  _ bone _ ?”

“Sans, if you don't start touching me for real in the next 30 seconds, I'm gonna--aaaAammmm ooooohh…”

He grinned as you trailed off, his fingers pressing gently through your pants in long, slow strokes.

“you look so beautiful when you arch your back like that,” he whispered, sockets already half-lidded as he looked you over. You really did look beautiful, all panting and still with that fire in your eyes as you glared at him playfully. 

He leaned down to capture your lips again, and your breath with it as you wrapped yourself around him. His tongue swiped at your lips, and you let him in to explore with a little sigh. His hand travelled down to the button of your pants, but you stopped him.

He let out a confused whine, pulling back from the kiss to level that confused look on you.

“I'm hot.”

He chuckled, leaning back down to press his teeth against your clavicle. “yeah, you’re smokin’, that's why i wanted to undress you.”

You laughed a little in return as he began kissing your neck. “Mmm, no, I meant that I'm packin’, sugar skull.”

“i think i woulda noticed if you had extra equipment down there, sweetheart,” he mused, not slowing his assault on your neck at all but rather dragging the flat of his tongue all the way to your ear with a pleased hum as you squirmed beneath him.

“No, Sans, I mean I have weapons.”

He stopped. “...oh.”

You pushed him back and slid out from beneath him, walking over to his desk, and he watched as you searched your cardigan, producing several small knives from an inside pocket. You stuck your tongue out at him playfully as you removed a lady pistol from your waistband, followed by several  _ more _ knives. It was fascinating, actually, to watch you pull the weapons from who knows where. Finally, slowly, you shimmied out of your pants and unstrapped one last knife, almost as long as your thigh, setting it on the desk beside the other ones.

“There. Now I can go get hot in...other ways.” You said teasingly, as you moved ever-so-slowly back to him.

His eyes roamed down your body to the lacy black panties that hugged your hips, thin fabric doing nothing to suppress the smell of your arousal. It was enough to get him drunk, he thought as he shed his sweatshirt, returning his free hand to ghost over your thighs as you stopped in front of him. Everything about you was just so soft and squishy and alluring. He'd been with humans before, so he knew some tricks that could probably get you screaming pretty immediately, but he wanted to take his time this time. No pickups, no info to move on right now, no interruptions.

He was going to eat out, and he was going to enjoy it.

But first, he was gonna make you beg for it. He kissed you softly, at the top of your thighs, humming as your hand slid smoothly over his skull, scratching slightly with obvious need.

“you been wearin’ all those weapons all night?” He asked, fingers ghosting around the swell of your ass. “real talk, babydoll...you didn't feel comfortable taking ‘em off till we about t’get busy?”

“Force of habit,” you breathed, trying to move subtly closer. “Nothing personal, daddy.”

He hummed against your thigh, unconvinced but ready to ignore it in favor of the task at hand. It's not like he would blame you for being on edge--after all, despite how well you get on, you've only known each other a little over a month, and only spent roughly three days of that month together. Anyone in this business worth their salt doesn't trust anyone that easily.

“Sans, stop  _ pussy _ footin’ around,” you said, startling him from his thoughts to stare at you. You had a cheeky smile on your flushed face, hair falling out of your ponytail, cardigan hanging off one shoulder. He didn't think he had ever seen anyone look that fucking sexy after pulling such a perfectly timed pun.

Well, he isn't one to disobey.

Suddenly he was standing behind you, wrapping you up and sliding one hand down to explore your heat through your panties. You leaned back into him, making small moans as he prodded experimentally. What would make you scream? Are you a clitoral orgasmer, that is so sensitive that it took no more than a few well-placed licks to get you off? Or, judging by your slow, heavy breathing, were you someone who required more attention to reach your climax?

“You better get serious, before I  _ clit _ erally walk out,” You breathed, and he had to press his grin against your shirt to keep from laughing out loud.

“holy fuck, you’re perfect,” he chuckled, fingers stalling momentarily before cupping his whole hand more firmly over your slit. As he thought, you released a much bigger moan than when he had teased near your clit, which meant he had his work cut out for him if your clit wasn't so sensitive. But he didn't mind working for it, because it would be a bigger achievement in the end when he finally did have you writhing on his tongue. 

He increased the pressure just slightly, rocking his hand against your mound, and you brought your sleeve up to obscure your blush. 

“don't you dare cover that face of yours, babygirl. daddy wants to see how good i make you feel.”

Oh, fuck, he'd never dirty-talked like  _ that _ before. It had kind of slipped out, after how strong and sexy he felt every time you called him “Big Daddy”. He felt his bones growing warm at his own words, and he was almost embarrassed as you obediently lowered your sleeve...until you turned around and he saw the absolutely entranced look on your face, and knew that you were into it, too.

“now take it off,” he prodded, sitting back on the bed to watch.

“Yes, daddy,” you purred, dropping your cardigan completely to be discarded off the edge of the bed. Next came your panties, which had fucking  _ clips _ on the sides so they were easy to remove. He sucked in a breath as you discarded those. Your heart was pounding as you tugged your shirt off, and then your bra, and he watched patiently until you were done.

And then you were naked, standing in the low light of the sunset in his room, raising an eyebrow curiously at his prolonged stare. 

That feeling in his chest was tugging at him again, like a persistent knocking, and he wanted to touch you so badly, to run his fingers over your every curve slowly and kiss every inch of your gorgeous skin.

“lay back and let me do the work.” 

You obeyed, crawling over him and leaning back against his pillows. You normally didn't relinquish control like this, but if the pulsing blue light in his pants, chest, and left eye were any indication, he was enjoying this. You suppose that, since last time you took charge, you could let him do it just this o--

You gasped as his hands slid up your thighs, thumbs brushing your outer lips teasingly.

“were you just thinking that i’d get to be in charge just this once?” He asked, his voice a low purr that made your sex pulse with need as he lowered his face to rest between your thighs. You kept quiet, caught, but the resulting chuckle that breathed over your entrance was almost torture. “we’ll see if you still feel the same when we’re done, babydoll.”

He kissed you, to the side of your entrance where your leg and thigh met, and you sighed. Seemed like he might already know what to do for you--a rare find, a guy who knows how to tease properly.

“You're wearing too much,” you huffed, upset that you were naked and he was still fully clothed.

“ _ patience _ is a virtue,” he chuckled, almost as if he had made a pun. You didn't understand the pun, if there had been one, but you knew better than to ask.

Patience was never your strong suit, not in the slightest, but you tried to focus on the way he fluttered kisses around and near your entrance, tongue flicking teasingly to lap ever-so-gently on your folds.

He chuckled as you tried to wiggle down closer, to make him press harder, and the vibration of the deep laugh made your breath hitch.

However little patience you had, he seemed to have a wealth of it--most guys you had been with got tired of cunnilingus after a few minutes, but it was five minutes before he even finished kissing your thighs, and by the time he finally unfurled his tongue to lap languidly at your slit, you were quivering with arousal, practically dripping wet, and the sensation of his tingly magic pressing firmly against your teased core made you shudder and yelp.

He hummed, pleased with your reaction, leaning into the way your hand was pressing on the back of his skull. He groaned as he felt your shudder, tasted your arousal on his tongue. You were swearing softly as he wiggled his tongue past your lower lips, pressing it inside you and curling, and you gasped, and he grinned against your thighs.

“What’re you smilin’ about down there, boss man?” You teased breathlessly.

“mmm...jus’ enjoying my meal,” he purred in response, before pulling his tongue back out to swirl your clit. 

His patience had certainly paid off, because all it took to completely undo your facade was another well-placed Australian kiss, and you shivered as your voice caught in your throat.

“Ahh...Sans~” You breathed, body tingling all over as he continued to lap at your folds, working you through your orgasm. He seemed to expect that you wouldn't be too sensitive for more, because he was relentless in his assault, and you found yourself squeaking in surprise as he coaxed a  _ second orgasm  _ from you immediately, clamping your thighs against his skull as he stuttered in his rhythm for only a second, before slowing deliberately until your thighs released him, and you were left shaking as his grinned triumphantly at you, wiping his face slowly.

“Don't look so...so pleased with yourself,” you huffed, and he chuckled as he sat up to kneel between your legs.

“but it looks like  _ you're _ pretty pleased with me, princess~” he teased, hands fluttering over your legs and ghosting over your stomach. “you tellin’ me you give every schmuck that look? i shouldn't feel special? i gotta...work  _ harder? _ ”

His voice was practically a purr as he slowly rolled his hips forward, his shorts doing nothing to hide the thickness of his arousal from rubbing against you, and you sucked in an anticipatory breath.

“but you know, babydoll, we got all the time in the world, this time. ain’t no yes men knockin’ on my door, ain't no chance of you skippin’ out on me in the morning…” He said slowly, lowering himself to pin you with his weight as he whispered dangerously in your ear. “so howsabout we take it slow, eh? reeeeeeeeeeal slow...like we shoulda done…we can go on a real date, even.”

You stared at him blankly as he drew away, completely dumbfounded. “...What?”

There was a long silence as the two of you stared at each other...until he busted out laughing, head dropping to rest on your chest as confusion settled into your frame.

“holy shit, i’m joking,” he chuckled, hands squeezing where they rested on your hips. “fuck, you shoulda seen your face, damn, of course i’m gonna fuck ya.”

“Pffft...that was...so not funny,” you tried to say, covering your smile.

“and yet, you're laughin’, so i win.” His eyes travelled down your bare body with a hunger, drinking the sight of you in, still breathing heavy from your orgasm. “damn. i definitely win.”

“C’mon, Romeo,” you teased, snagging his collar to drag him down on top of you, kissing him hard until he moaned against your lips.

“yeah, no more teasin’, you got it, babygirl.” He purred, and leaned back slightly to fumble with the ties on his shorts.

It was bigger than you remember it being, and your excitement skyrocketed (you insufferable size queen, you!) as he drew it from his waistband with a wink that made you shiver. Immediately you were running one hand over the shaft, and it was  _ definitely _ bigger than before.

“Aww, is my Big Daddy all excited?” You teased, thumbing the head of his cock as he shuddered beneath your touch.

“heh...only half as excited as you, babygirl.” He emphasized his point by slipping two fingers into your slick folds, pressing tantalizingly slow before removing them, dripping. He licked his fingers languidly, and you watched him closely. “you taste so sweet, i could taste you all day…”

And then he was kissing you, and you could taste your own arousal on his tongue. Your hands were pulling at his shirt still, and you could feel him pressing into you slowly, all your arousal still proving not to be enough for his girth as he muttered small swears to himself, sockets flashing with desire. You gasped as he stretched you pleasantly, rocking in and out at an agonizingly slow pace to try and sheathe himself without hurting you.

“Oh, fuck, Sans,” you moaned, and he paused, worry flashing across his face.

“i’m not hurtin’ you, am i, babygirl?” He cooed softly, brushing your hair from your face.

“Ha,” you huffed, amused. “I ain't made of porcelain, big man. You aren't gonna break me.”

He chuckled, his face growing mischievous as he began to press slowly into you again. “that sounds like a challenge, angel.”

You gasped as he snapped his hips forward, phalanges digging into your hips to hold you down on his cock as he sheathed himself inside you with a huff, making you squeak in surprise, followed shortly by a lewd moan as he immediately set about a swift pace. Your legs were pressed back nearly to your chest, ankles crossed behind his spine to anchor him down as he kissed you passionately, a roaring fire stoked by your teasing and fueled by weeks of pent up energy between you two. You were breathing heavily before long, mind going hazy as he ravaged you hard and fast, drawing noises from your lips that you might have been ashamed of if you had any shame left to spare.

From then on there was very little talking, but that didn’t mean you didn’t put your lips to work. Every inch of him that you could reach was a victim of your lipstick marks, and you had half a mind to interrupt and re-apply just so you could continue to mark him. 

He groaned as you rose like the tide to meet his thrusts, wondering once again how he got so damn lucky. 

_ *so perfect _

You feel like heaven, and his head is full of a haze of white noise as he tries to be worthy of your attention. 

_ *so perfect, and soft... _

Your soft skin, soft moans, soft lips...it all clashed so sweetly with the way you raked your nails against his ribs roughly, and the broken way you called his name as you shivered through another climax.

_ *and rough, and gorgeous, and...and... _

His voice was a wrecked whisper as he called your name in return, cumming hard and fast and reveling in the way you clutched him close…

_ *...and mine. _

* * *

Your phone woke you, and you hit ignore, knowing it was Frankie again, trying to reach you.

You didn’t want to go home just yet, and you had already told him that, he probably just hoped he was interrupting you.

“you ain’t leavin’, are ya, angel?” Sans muttered, sleep heavy in his voice as he rolled over to drape his arm around you, pulling you close, getting lost in your scent…

“Nah, just my brother bein’ a dummy.” You giggled, sighing as he nuzzled sweetly into your hair. “Hey, we’re doin’ the right thing, huh?”

“each other? sure as hell felt right,” he snickered, gripping the soft pudge of your thigh in one hand as he cracked an eye open to observe you curiously.

“Not the sex, you dingus,” you laughed. “Which I agree, felt amazing.”

“so whaddya mean, then?” he asked, brushing your hair aside to plant a kiss on the nape of your neck. You hummed, pleased, and he purred in response as your body ground back into his.

“I just mean...ah, well, you’ve made me forget,” you scolded playfully as his hand smoothed over your breasts teasingly.

“oh, m’sorry, were you sayin’ somethin’? i can stop.” He said quietly, breath fanning over your neck as you shivered underneath his touch.

“Don’t you dare,” you laughed, wiggling backward a little bit more until your ass rested in the curve of his pelvis. “I was just bein’ silly, that’s all.”

“well, i hear the cure for silliness is stiff, slightly luminescent, and blue,” he offers, and you feel the form of his cock pressing eagerly against you. “wanna give it a try?”

“Okay...but then I really should go home,” you breathed as he nipped at your shoulder. “I gotta go be an heiress on a talk show tomorrow.”

“sure thing, babygirl...just lemme get another taste of you first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Finally got the D, again, and honestly? I love that these two banter even when they're fuckin'.  
> Don't forget to check out my tumblr, where you can ask the characters questions and share theories and ideas!  
> My tumblr is @msmkcreates

**Author's Note:**

> Fan art!
> 
> [ Bat(woman) and Red-bin ](https://official-jellybellyrulez-acc.tumblr.com/post/164819817383/so-this-is-for-a-fanfic-mistress-kitten-made) By the amazing Jelly Belly on Tumblr!


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